It's Only Programmed
by Candyandsugarysurprises
Summary: Emotions, personalities, and what we choose to do with our life is what makes us who we are. Our past and our future does as well. Who we choose to be and whether or not we take the role as the villain or the hero in this game are all our choices to make. The question is, will we make the right one? BOT AN UPDATE IT'S AN AUTHOR'S NOTE
1. Prologue - A Lonely Cell

_(Got this idea in my head after seeing a few amazing Wreck-it Ralph fics on here. King Candy/Turbo definitely made a mark on me, as well as a few characters; One who will be a main one in this fic. I'm not entirely sure what direction this fic will be going in and how it will turn out. I don't think it's going to have the happiest ending though. Updates could be often or far in between. Anyhoo, I hope you all enjoy.)_

* * *

You don't feel pain very often when you're a video game character. Codes programmed things resembling organs and tissue into your body, but the fact remains: you're still made of pixels. During the day, the lives of video game characters were controlled, and the outcome was always unpredictable. Certainly, they're were probably thousands of deaths a day, but never a loss, as the characters could simply regenerate.

During his time as a racer, Turbo suffered his nicks and scrapes (it was a mere, small sacrifice to pay for the price of being the best of the racers), but it was nothing compared to the agony he was facing now.

As amazing and _Turbo-tastic_ as he had been as a racer, every Number One had their slip ups, and Turbo was no different. His cars had crashed outside of arcade hours, and certainly during them, but it would be a simple, routine crash, and a brief, fleeting moment of pain before he'd flicker and recover.

The pain that consumed him now held no respite, and no chance of relenting. At the very least, he wasn't on fire anymore. Turbo could feel his code disintegrating. The pressure in his head was so great he was ready to scream. He reached up to grip his face, only to find his hands had been reduced to minuscule little pixels.

On his knees, Turbo watched the alarming pattern his body seemed to take. It seemed vaguely familiar, digging at the back of his mind. He remembered seeing the roster malfunction like this at times. Bluish lines would assault the screens as it often stalled or fizzed. Now that he recalled, a certain, _little brat_ did this too.

The former racer and king flickered and his moans of anguish became distorted, like an out-of-tune radio. Pain continued to wrack his coding, but Turbo tried to take advantage of the glitch encasing his body. He tried to imagine how the twerp would work hers. She'd shut her eyes and be able to teleport wherever she wanted.

Turbo attempted it, but found concentrating only caused his head to throb all the worse. Hid body flickered to fragments of blue once more, but it didn't go anywhere. In fact, Turbo quickly realized that whatever glitchy-damage his broken coding had left him had the opposite effect Vanellope's glitch had. He stalled and froze on the spot when the malfunction assaulted him rather than appear anywhere else.

Pain stabbed his entire body, piercing it like thousands of knives all at once. Turbo's muted cries of pain became more distorted as his body continued to rapidly flicker. There was a blinding, hot flash of white, and then nothing more.

* * *

When Turbo's cat-yellow eyes finally opened to the world, he was hoping he was dead. Of course, if he had died, then his eyes wouldn't even have opened. There was no heaven or hell for game characters. If there was, he obviously wouldn't be at the former.

No, Turbo recognized this place from fond memories during his reign. The best part of being viewed as a king and benovelent ruler of Sugar Rush was what he managed to get away with outside of the time he needed to be with his subjects.

"Fungeon"; a callous name indeed, but that's what was so fun about it. Ah, puns. That was the best part of King Candy's character, creating a goofy and playful King. He really did get into it at times. Countless citizens had been isolated from the world in these barren cells, but none being the one he actually wanted to permanently imprison.

"Vanellope Von Schweetz..."

"Oh good, and here I was worried about giving a greeting."

Turbo's hateful glare darted up to the miniature form before him. The pure, saccharine sight of the little pixie in her pink dress made him want to vomit. Not wanting to have his own gastric acids stinking up his cell, he settled with merely jerking angrily against the chains around him.

"And what brings you here, _your highness?"_ He spat the words with as much venom as he could muster. It didn't even faze the child.

Vanellope's face had gone stony and serious. Much too serious for that of a nine year old; her sugar dipped eyes hard and stony. "I'm the one that found you, you know. I'm who's deciding your fate and why you aren't dead."

This probably wasn't what he was supposed to be concerned with, but he couldn't help mutter, "Whose idea was it to let a nine year old run a kingdom anyway."

"Having a nine year old president is better than having a nutter-butt intent on taking over an entire video game, and probably an entire arcade," the little pixie pointed out flatly. She gave a slight smirk. Turbo sneered back.

"President? You're a princess," Turbo snapped, as much as that thought made him retch. "If you're just a president than why the frilly get-up?"

"I like the fashion." The quip that came out of Vanellope was honestly unexpected and made the former racer rasp out a dry cackle. As he did, he felt his body ripple with pain, and his body flickered once more. Vanellope was too busy staring at her dress to notice.

A silence stretched on for a few moments. Turbo yanked at his chains, knowing it wouldn't do anything. The damn rugrat was smart, he'd give her that much. These chains were even tougher than the ones he had binding her before.

"So why save me then, president? Is it because you have something worse in store? Inhumane torture of revenge for all that I've done to you?" Turbo sneered. Those cat like, demonic eyes pierced the little girl's soul, but she remained standing, chanting a mantra inside her head to calm herself down. She couldn't show fear.

"Isn't that more what you would have for me?"

"Indeed it would be." The words were simple and cold, brutal and to the point. No more fabricated lies. Just the honesty of hatred and vengeance.

"Too bad you lost your creepy, demon, virus powers. They sure would come in handy for getting out of those chains. It's the only way you'll ever get out of them, unless I say so." Seething rage built up in the former racer. The urge to wrap his hands around the little pixie's throat was stronger than ever. How dare she mock him!

"Surely you wouldn't be stupid enough to 'say so'. You know exactly who I am, _Glitch_." He scowled at the failed attempt to demoralize the girl. The irritating little pixie only smirked at him.

"Nice try, King Lunatic, or Turban-whatever-your-name-is."

"_Turbo,_" the enraged racer snarled.

"My glitch isn't a flaw anymore. In fact, everyone sees it as the greatest super power ever, as do I~" The raven-haired girl disappeared in a flash, and her form reappeared in his cell, inches away from his immobilized form.

"Don't stray too close, sweetie. You wouldn't want me to throttle all of the air out of your sugar-coated lungs."

With a flash of electric blue she was outside the bars again. The daunting smirk on her face was once again replaced with a look far more serious. She gazed into the cell with a mixture of anger and pity, able to tell that he was in pain.

"I don't think you'll be in the condition to do anything like that in a while. Your near death, cola-lava-spa-trip there destroyed your code; part of it anyway. You had two codes, King Candy's and Turbo's. King Candy's code was killed, but you've been a part of this game for so long now that it recognizes you as one of the characters."

At least it explained how he somehow survived being liquefied The fact that he survived brought him little comfort. Turbo was weak. Even though the chains limited his movement, he could tell that he wasn't able to move very much anyway.

"You're still recovering," the pixie went on. There was an almost teasing smile on her face now. "So I advise you to wait until you've finished healing to start rattling your chain like a mad monkey."

"Aren't you going to kill me?"

At that, Vanellope stared at the dangerous racer as if he had five heads. "Whoa, are you nuts? Why does everyone think just because I have an important title that I'm just gonna execute anyone I feel like? Geez. Besides, I'm a kid, not a hard criminal like you. I'm keeping you here to talk to."

"Doesn't the little glitch have a family of her own yet?" came Turbo's edged and dark response. Those glowing, yellow eyes just radiated hatred.

The child's brown eyes glinted in an unreadable way as she stared back at Turbo. Yellow eyes glared back, hating that he couldn't tell what the brat was thinking. Something akin to pity crossed Vanellope's face, and within the span of three seconds, there was two quick, blue flashes and one of Turbo's hands was free. Beside his fingers was a roll of cinnamon bread.

"Until tomorrow we meet, Turbo."

Before the girl opened the jail doors back to society, she caught the flickers of light radiating from the imprisoned form and heard his distorted groans as the glitch took back over.

_Well I'll be a son of a gun._


	2. Chapter 1 - Out Into The Open

_(Thanks so much to the support I received for the first chapter. It was most appreciated. I promise to respond to everyone's reviews. I'm still going with this fic, as I have somewhat of a plot in mind, but I'm still unsure of how to end it. As I said, the ending will probably be grim. At this point, there's no telling where the fic will go, and what theme it is. I guess for now you'll have to decide that._

_And don't worry, the other characters will be coming in shortly.)_

* * *

Turbo had an accurate idea of when to expect the glitch now. Every few minutes, he'd get the warning dizziness before the pain took over. It was like screwdrivers driving into his body for just a mile second, or however long the glitch lasted.

Turbo faintly wondered if Vanellope ever experienced any pain during her glitches. Certainly having your body briefly distort and spark couldn't be a painless experience. Yet, when Turbo saw her, especially now, there was no look of pain etched across her face. Plus, she willingly glitched now. Perhaps it took a while for the pain to go away.

There was light trickling through his heavily barred windows. Vanellope had opened the shaft of the jail doors as well, in a small act of kindness. He sneered. Did she really think that would make him feel better? Teasing him with the rays of sunlight, knowing he'd never be able to be out in it? Cruel child.

The slants of white light became blinding and filled the jail cell as the door was suddenly open. Turbo winced as the rays stung his eyes. His wince became a hiss of pain as his body flickered blue again.

The little pixie wasn't in her royal attire this time, for which Turbo was grateful. If he had to see her at all he didn't want it to be in a royal outfit that was meant for him. He almost laughed when he realized what he just thought.

"Did you enjoy the cinnamon bread?"

"It was stale," Turbo snapped. Really, if he was going to be honest with himself, it had been delicious and tender, but as if he was going to thank the brat for anything.

A frivolous pout crossed the nine year old's face, childish and almost cute (to anyone but him). "I made it, it shouldn't be! I added a special ingredient."

"You what?!" How could he be so stupid? Why didn't it cross his mind that the little pipsqueak might have whipped up the concoction herself? Poison could be racking his code this very second right now! Perhaps that had been the pain he was feeling (that or his utterly massacred codes).

The pixie stared blankly at him, her chocolate, brown eyes wide and confused as the strange man flipped out and muttered a string of words Felix and Calhoun had told her she'd be in trouble if she ever said.

"It was ginger."

"_What?_"

"The special ingredient," Vanellope blinked. "It said to add brown sugar, but I thought you'd like ginger instead. Sour Bill said you used to have a hidden jar in your room, where you kept a stash of ginger cookies."

That damn little sour puss! That's where half the heads of his gingerbread men had gone! Turbo fumed over this realization for a few more seconds, muttering things like shoving a bunch of cookies down Sour bill's throat-up until he realized Vanellope was giggling. He flashed a murderous glare at the little pixie, but she only giggled more. It was no use. He didn't scare the the little brat anymore.

There was a horrendous screeching noise, and Turbo's cell opened and closed as the child stepped into the cold cubicle. She was carrying a paper bag. Turbo grew wary, especially as the child strayed closer to him with the bag between her tiny, pink finger tips.

The bag rustled as Vanellope dumped the contents out in front of him. It was more food.

Turbo could feel the pixie's eyes on him, and he gritted his teeth. He knew Vanellope was waiting for him to eat the food. Refusing to give the little titch satisfaction in knowing how hungry he was, Turbo was content to stay turned away from the brat and just let that food spoil.

And then his stomach growled.

The former racer's eyes slid shut, especially when he heard the pixie giggle. He cursed his stomach for betraying him and snatched a morsel of food to quickly satisfy it. There was another moment of silence, save for his chewing. A ripple of pain shook his form and the dim cell flashed a brief, blue hue as the glitch took over again.

The spasm of agony lasted only for a second, but left Turbo coughing and wincing, and bending forward in his chains.

"It's like that for the first bit."

"What?" Turbo demanded sharply, shooting the impudent brat a glare.

"The glitch," Vanellope continued. "You'll feel pain for a while, because your code isn't used to having a flaw. I had pain for almost a week from mine, but my programming got used to everything, and then when I flickered I didn't really feel anything."

The former racer's body twitched and distorted again, and Turbo shut his eyes through the next wave of pain. This one lasted a little longer, and Vanellope watched him through the entire thing.

"It helps to hold onto something and grip it tight. Kind of like how they say you should do that when you get a needle. It makes you think about something else other than the pain."

Turbo tried to drown the brat out with his own venomous thoughts, such as what he'd do to this game, and more importantly, what he'd do to _her_ once he manged to free himself from this cell, this nightmare, and this _glitch._

His body dissolved again into blue fragments, and he dimly heard his snarls of pain over the sounds of the static hissing. Through the pins and needles, and burning, Turbo briefly felt something soft slip into his hand. He glanced sharply at his hand, but found his vision obscured by pixels and strange hues.

When the sharp daggers gradually faded into a dull ache, Vanellope's hand was already back at her side. She examined it curiously, and touched the center of her palm with little fingers.

Turbo was tired, but weak. He feared if he shut his eyes, it may be likely that they wouldn't open again. He honestly wasn't sure how he managed to survive the night. Chilly as it had been outside, the temperatures felt as if they had dropped to sub zero in the jail cell.

The glitch in his body hurt worse in the cold, like any injury. Programmed characters were still codes, but they were built with everything a human had. Whether they could resurrect or not, they could still feel the effects of climate change.

Turbo was drifting off into another troubled sleep, and he was almost grateful when Vanellope's annoying voice spoke to keep him awake.

"Tell me about _Turbo Time_."

Vanellope was laying belly down on the icy concrete. Her hands propped under her chin like a child waiting for a bedtime story. Her chocolate, brown eyes were doleful and curious in the dark; still holding their innocence despite all he had put her through.

"Tell me why it was so popular. Tell me why you decided to abandon it for another game. Tell me what made it so different than _Road Blasters_."

Ah, so it seemed that infuriating handyman had told her everything. As if he cared if she knew who he was. To him it would seem that would make her fear him more, but that didn't seem to be the case.

The racer's cat-yellow eyes darkened more to a look of utter hate at the remembrance of his past. Being rejected and abandoned by those selfish humans, having his game unplugged, and being scorned by everyone else for abandoning his own game. They were memories he didn't care to think about.

"What did you love most about _Turbo Time?_" Vanellope questioned honestly.

It didn't seem like Turbo was going to answer her. He glitched again and moaned before he spoke. "Winning."

And that was true. The honor, the glory of being viewed as the greatest racer of all time—there was nothing like it. At the time, his was the only racing game, and it _should_ have stayed that way. He'd never understand the need to update to a new, and 'higher graphic' game.

"If you loved winning in _Turbo Time_ so much, then why would you abandon it for another game? Why did you leave when it risked a danger for your game? Didn't you realize what a dumb move it was?"

_Oh_, how lucky the pixie was that he was chained where he couldn't hurt her. And what torture that was; she was so close to him that he could feel her hoodie rubbing against his leg.

Hatred overflowed like an angry fountain as he whipped to face her. He didn't care how painfully the cuffs chafed his skin or how he may have possibly given himself whiplash. All that mattered was the brat saw the look on his face.

"You have no idea what it's like!" he shrieked at the girl. He was too far into the realm of rage to take pleasure in how wide and fearful Vanellope's eyes had become. "You don't know what it's like to be rejected and utterly alone! After so much time, so many years of being in the spot light, and they leave me—just like that!"

The soft, pitying look in those chocolate flecks darkened immediately as Vanellope matched Turbo's glare. Hers was laced with turmoil and regret, while Turbo's was filled with utter, black hatred.

"You're wrong, Turbo," the child mumbled. A hint of tears shone in her sugar-soaked eyes. "I spent my entire life being alone and rejected, because there was something wrong with me. "

"I had to deal with no one understanding me, because you made it that way. I had to deal with being on my own without the companionship of a friend. I always wondered, every day, why I was even alive. Being an outcast that no one wanted, I always wondered why you hadn't just killed me."

The simmering anger had died in those yellow eyes, and Turbo relaxed against his chains in emotional and physical exhaustion. "I tried to," he growled softly. "I tried to delete you in the beginning, when I programmed the game."

"You never tried after that."

The pale racer glared at the ground, and shifted his feet against the concrete. "Killing you wasn't my main objective. All that mattered was keeping you from crossing that finish line. Now that I think of it, I should have tried to kill you when I had the chance. You ruined my life."

He wasn't sugar coating anything. Vanellope fizzed a giggle into her hand from the way she worded that in her head. Catching the way Turbo's yellow eyes glowered at her, she wiped off the trembling smile and repressed any further laughter.

"So you hated being alone," Vanellope mused softly. She gazed curiously up at Turbo and tilted her large head. "But why did you leave your game then, so the rest of your colleagues could suffer the same thing? You left them by themselves, even though that's what happened to you."

How the damn pixie went from being a snarky half-pint to someone so honest with words that cut so deep was way beyond him.

There was a fleeting moment of humanity when his mind wandered back to his colleagues, but hatred once again consumed any hope of light in his black heart. His lip pulled back as he snarled and glared at the child. "I don't need a psychiatrist." What he really needed was a key to get out, or perhaps a new code entirely.

"Did you ever talk to anyone?" Vanellope wondered honestly.

The former racer was quiet. Then he sneered. "As King Candy, I had it all. Medicare around the clock, and anyone to talk to whenever I felt like it. I never did." He hesitated. "Once or twice, maybe."

"Did Turbo have anyone to talk to?" Vanellope asked.

"What?"

"I said did Turbo ever have anyone to talk to?"

A strange look crossed the deranged racer's eyes, almost hazy and melancholy. He looked away, to where he was able to see the sunlight. "No," he finally said. The look on Turbo's face was different, Vanellope realized. There was a new type of anger in his eyes. One Vanellope couldn't place.

"Where did the other _Turbo Time_ racers go?"

The second, true stab of real pain irrelevant to just his failure to take over the arcade, struck into his black heart as he remembered seeing their faces for a final time; before the screen from what was once his game, his home, faded to a lifeless black.

"They died," he muttered.

Turbo didn't look at Vanellope for a second as he just kept concentrating on the window. He didn't want to see the stupid look of sympathy in the brat's eyes that would just make him want to tear her face off even more.

After another few minutes of heavy, foreboding silence, Vanellope stood up and stood in front of him. Turbo looked at her.

Suddenly, something attacked him. Turbo snarled and thrashed against the large mass on him that was darkening his vision. After a few moments, he snapped out of his wild rage and felt his attacker being pushed off his head, draping over his shoulders.

A blanket.

Vanellope wrapped the blanket around him like a shawl, pulling it tightly over him so he would be comfortable. The blanket shielded him from the icy fingers of the cold and instantly warmed his shivering form. He glared curiously at the pixie, but she had already left the jail.


	3. Chapter 2 - One Mind

_(Wow, thank you all so much for the overwhelming response to the last chapter. I'm not kidding, I seemed to get a new review every hour, and it just filled me with delight. I even got some private messages about this fic. There's a lot of wondering what Turbo and Vanellope's relationship will be in this fic, but I can't tell you that. But no, it's not going to be a romance (the very thought of pairing Vanellope with Turbo or Felix or especially Ralph makes me want to throw up)._

_Anyhoo, this chapter doesn't have as many heart punchers as the last one, but we begin to delve a bit into the plot. So enjoy~)_

* * *

"Thanks for getting me this far, Sour Bill," Vanellope told the small, gloomy candy at her side. "Maybe now that I know the code to get in, I can spruce up this land some more. How about to go with the Diet Cola Mountain we get a Hot Chocolate Spa going too? Huh? Huh? Wouldn't that be the coolest?"

Sour Bill's listless, tired looking eyes barely rolled up from where they were staring at the floor. "President Vanellope, you shouldn't mess too much with the codes. Do you even know what you're doing?"

The child hesitated, an uncertain and sheepish smile on her lips, along with a pink blush. "No. But hey, 'Turbo-Terrifying' did it, so I don't see why I can't." She turned on her pink heel, about to dive into the labyrinth, and stopped.

"Oh, I almost forgot." The child reached into her pocket and extracted something shiny, flipping it into Sour Bill's outstretched hand. "That's for all your troubles!"

The spherical candy gazed flatly at his hand, and if possible, his expression deadpanned further. "A jelly bean? President, wouldn't it be a more adequate tip to give me a coin?"

"Why? You aren't a racer!" Vanellope cackled. She tied the taffy rope around her waist and made a careful descent into the labyrinth of codes.

The vast chamber of sparking wires and programs was dizzying to her childish mindset. Vanellope didn't even realize how much it took to program a game.

The child hovered carefully and twisted so she fit through a sea of wires. The last thing she wanted to do was jostle anything and corrupt her game.

It certainly wasn't very hard to find her own code, which was in the very center of the chamber, with almost every wire from every file pouring its data into it. Vanellope tried to imagine the way it might have looked before, and felt a wave of unhappiness sweep over her when she thought of all those malfunctioning wires.

It was far more difficult to find Turbo's code, which had now been shoved out of the swarm of programs, and was off to the side on its own, limp, and flickering, and barely hanging on.

Vanellope pursed her lips grimly and touched one of the feeble wires. It sputtered out a weak spark of electricity and practically fell limp in her hands. So everything _was_ as Vanellope feared. Turbo didn't have much longer, and he wouldn't last unless she did what she came here to do.

* * *

Turbo wasn't sure how long he had been in his cell, but to him, it was years. Vanellope's visits became more frequent after the first few. Soon she visited him more than once a day, always bringing food along with her.

Often, it was just Vanellope that spoke, while Turbo made no attempt to contribute to the conversation, or drown her out some way. She talked to him about anything, as if they were good friends that weren't supposed to hate each other. She asked about _Turbo Time_ often. Memories of his old game were never something he wished to discuss, but he did answer some of her questions.

During the last few days of his imprisonment, Vanellope stopped visiting completely. For several days it was just him alone in a cold, dark cell with only his thoughts to accompany him, forced to think about all the failures of his life that led up to this point.

Honestly, he almost missed Vanellope's visits. No matter how much he hated the kid, her constant, jabbering mouth was what kept his mind from drifting to things he didn't want to think about. Without her to distract him, he was trapped in the vicious tomb of his anger and regrets.

Turbo was sitting back against the wall and waiting to die when another glitch consumed him. Vanellope had been right to some degree; the pain wasn't as vicious as it used to be, but that still didn't mean it was a fun experience.

When the light first stung Turbo's eyes, he thought he was glitching again. That's when the door to the Fungeon opened and Vanellope stepped in. Turbo made a face; she was wearing her stupid, pink dress again.

The little pixie gazed at him.

Turbo gazed back.

Vanellope observed the way the racer sparked and flickered in discomfort. Her lips pursed a little in sympathy and she shook her head. She knew what he was going though. Having her entire body distort and twitch beyond her control wasn't her idea of a pleasant time.

Turbo watched as she opened his cell for the umpteenth time. He expected her to settle down next to him like she always did, and was instead surprised when she reached for his chains. He watched as she took out a candy-cane key from her pocket and tickled the lock with it.

The chains on his ankles and waist tumbled to the floor with a rattle. Turbo watched with amazement as Vanellope moved onto his arms, and disabled the chains from the wall. Now all that held Turbo was a strong pair of cuffs holding his wrists together.

The first thing that Turbo did was stretch. He felt the tendons and muscles in his body crack back into place, and the feeling finally began to return to his feet. As eager as he was to bolt his way out of this cell, and out of this game for good, he was hesitant to try and walk. He hadn't moved in he didn't know how long, and these steel chains on his arms weren't helping matters.

Vanellope was outside of the cell now, and waiting for him by the looks of it. The deranged racer glared at the kid in suspicion. He couldn't think of why he was being released other than to go to his own execution.

Hesitantly, Turbo took his first step in he-didn't-know-how-long. A jolt of adrenaline shot up his form and made him dizzy, but other than that, he had the strength to remain standing. What he found strange was how he had felt stronger the closer Vanellope got to him.

"I know you haven't walked in a long time, but don't worry," the pixie said off-handedly. "We don't have very far to go. If you need a break while we're walking, just let me know. Try not to walk too far from me."

Despite the deeply missed sunlight, it didn't change the fact that he had been out of it for so long. The harsh beams burned his eyes that were so accustomed to utter blackness. Vanellope must have realized this, because she pulled his blanket just over his eyelids, shielding him from the worst of the light. He exhaled in relief.

Most of Sugar Rush seemed to be deserted for the most part. Turbo wondered if there was some sort of cherry bomb scare, up until he heard the faint roars of engines in the distance. The citizens were all watching the races.

The walk, thankfully ended after about twenty minutes. By that time, Turbo was ready to collapse. He and Vanellope had to stop several times. He rose an eyebrow at the absence of verbal jabs and impatient sighs when they took a break. He never saw Vanellope as a very patient child, but the pixie never said a word.

Eventually, they reached their destination: the castle. Turbo's yellow eyes narrowed in hatred as he brooded down the halls with her; the halls that used to belong to _him._

Servants all around the castle stopped what they were doing to gape in horror at him. Many ran away, which made Turbo smile. Maybe he didn't scare that one child anymore, but it didn't mean he had lost his terrifying charm.

Although it wasn't clear what Vanellope's motives were, one thing was for sure: he wasn't being lead to an execution. If he was, it would most likely be a public event since every one in Sugar Rush probably wanted his head.

From behind her, Vanellope heard distorted groans and the horrendous crackling of static she had grown accustomed to all of her life. An eyebrow rose at the snarl of pain, however. He had been glitched for nearly three weeks now. She couldn't understand why he still experienced pain every time he went through one of his episodes.

The glitch passed, but Turbo still wanted to curl up and go to sleep somewhere. Vanellope wasn't having any of that, it seemed. She glanced sharply at him when he tried to lean against the wall, and he matched her glare with a piercing one of his own.

She was lucky his hands weren't free.

They walked further down the corridors, until they were next to a room that Turbo remembered all to well. King Candy's throne room. He glowered darkly at the large door, trying to imagine what it might look like now. It was doubtful a child would keep his interior decor.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a creaking sound, and stared over to see Vanellope opening a door. She stood, holding onto the knob and looking at him expectantly. It was clear he was supposed to go in the room.

He wasn't going to, at first. There was no way he was going to do _anything_ _she _wanted him to do. However, his hoping that a bed was in there was more than his hatred, so he hesitantly stepped into the room. His eyes widened.

Although decreased in size, it was definitely reminiscent to how his throne room had looked. The same wallpaper, the same floor, and even the same, fluttery pink drapes. The one thing different than his throne room, but very much welcomed, was a sponge-cake bed in the middle of the room. Turbo immediately limped towards it.

"I thought I'd give you back your old decor," Vanellope said from the doorway. She smirked slightly. "I'm not very fond of pink."

The ex-racer's eyes darkened. "It was _salmon._"

* * *

To Turbo, it was funny how the only things that ever ran through his head in the Fungeon could be summed up in solitary words: 'revenge, kill,' and 'destroy', and now the only thing he could think of was 'bed.'

Vanellope was in her room, possibly sleeping. Turbo could hear the pixie shifting around under her covers through the walls.

There was no one around. None of his old, glazed donut guards, and not even Sour Bill. Anyone that was close by wasn't with the living, too deep into a slumber. A sinister grin crept over the deranged racer's face. Surely no one could be stupid enough to leave a homicidal villain hell-bent on revenge alone and free in a castle full of codes to corrupt.

Apparently they were.

The chains on his hands were heavy and hindered his walking, but nothing was stopping him. The sooner he could fix his code and delete Vanellope, the sooner he could make his next move. Perhaps, this time on _Fix-It-Felix-Jr._ How he'd love to rip that handy man and imbecile wrecker down to pixels, one code at a time.

Turbo crept cautiously past the pixie's room. As he did, he heard a sudden whine echoing from inside. He froze on the spot, fearing Vanellope had woken up. There were a few more whines, and Turbo cautiously peered in through her door.

The nine year old was asleep, but it wasn't a peaceful one. Whimpers and little mewls sounded from her throat, and Turbo could see the tear tracks on her face, illuminated by a small, Hershey-Kiss nightlight plugged into her wall.

She was obviously having nightmares, Turbo mused. Judging by the way she thrashed and pleaded in her sleep, he had a thought that it had something to do with him. Turbo studied the child for a moment longer, and he suddenly felt a strange sensation wash over him.

He felt pain. No, it wasn't physical pain, but a sudden, severe surge of emotional pain, straight into his heart. The impact of it almost made him collapse with a gasp. His body flickered and fizzed in agony, terror washing over him in waves.

The almighty racer suddenly felt vulnerable and frightened, like a young child afraid of some sort of monster under his bed. His glitch became persistent, and when Turbo shut his eyes, he saw Vanellope. She was alone, in what looked like Sugar Rush, but it was dark and deserted She was banging on the exit that barricaded her in because of her glitch. She was screaming. And then, she disintegrated into code.

Turbo snapped out of the strange vision and stumbled back with a repressed gasp, so not to wake the sleeping pixie. His emotions glazed back over with their usual coldness as he returned to reality. The child's crying had quieted, and she was still.

The racer left the room immediately, shutting the door quietly behind him. What had honestly stopped him from wrapping his hands around the brat's neck and squeezing? Oh, right, his hands were chained together.

Turbo made his way back out into the silent hallway and gazed at the journey ahead. It was comical, really; he didn't have far to go, but in his state of weakness, it was like he was about to climb one of the ice cream mountains.

The destination was getting closer, but by this point the chances of Turbo reaching it were dwindling. He noticed, with every step he took, he seemed to glitch. Not even that annoying titch glitched this often.

By the time he finally reached the code vault, he could barely see. Every blink caused blue pixels to take over his vision.

The last thing Turbo heard was the gentle and frantic scurry of slippers on the tile, before the ground rushed up to meet his face.


	4. Chapter 3 - Linked By Hatred

_(I hope you all find this chapter as interesting to read as it was to write. Things really start changing after this chapter._

_And yes, the others are finally in this one.)_

* * *

Turbo was on the ground, his body racked with glitch spasms. He heard the pixie's slippers on the floor and felt her pick him up. The ex-racer was too tired and disoriented to protest. The glitches stopped the moment the child's little fingers tenderly wrapped around his form. Incidentally Turbo's pain went away too.

His eyes were closed, but he felt his body being rocked around rapidly, and almost dropped on several occasions. Of course, he was in the arms of a nine year old; someone much tinier than him and probably whom he could pick up with ease if he wanted to. And throw her into the volcano.

Vanellope's body finally buckled forward from the weight, but before the two fell to the ground, Turbo felt himself abruptly being swooped up high into the air. The altitude made him want to vomit.

"Ralph!" Vanellope gasped.

Oh _great._

_"Oh my land!_ Is that Turbo?"

Maybe if he pretended to look dead, the big beef-man would leave him alone. Turbo kept his eyes shut, not just out of exhaustion, but fear of what this wrecker would do to him if he knew he was alive. He certainly hadn't been hesitant to rip him apart as King Candy, and this was before he had actually tried harming him and the pixie.

After a few moments of walking, Turbo felt Ralph hold him away from his body. Abruptly, he was slammed hard on his back in his sponge-cake bed. He glitched and snarled in pain.

"Ralph!" Vanellope hissed.

Turbo opened an eye long enough to see the little pixie being dragged out of the room, with Ralph's hand firmly gripped around her tiny arm.

Vanellope allowed herself to be dragged only a few feet away from the door before she dug her heels firmly into the tile, giving Turbo an occasional glance through the door. She squeaked as the wrecker grabbed her shoulders and gave her a few furious shakes.

"Kid! Have you lost your mind?! What is he _doing_ here? Why is he in the castle? What happened to the Fungeon you had him in? What is going on?!" Ralph's tone was reaching a hilarious pitch due to his growing hysteria, but Vanellope knew this wasn't the time to laugh.

Her eyes rolling around in her sockets from the violent shakes, Vanellope scowled and yanked away from his big, beefy hands. "Get those slabs of meat off of me, I know what I'm doing!" She adjusted her pajama sleeves.

"Well, apparently not, little miss!" Felix's normally cheerful grin had taken on a stern visage as he frowned down at her, hands on his hips crossly.

Of course, Tamara had to join in; there was no way she could keep silent. "Young lady, what you're doing here is more dangerous than strapping yourself to a beacon for cybugs!"

The child rolled her chocolate, brown eyes and glared the other way. The worst part about being the youngest in the group she socialized with meant it left her to all kinds of correction, from a family that could be fiercely overprotective of her.

Albeit, it was a joy to finally be taken care of for once, after being alone her entire life. She had been read to and put to bed, and even had someone's arms to hold her when she needed comfort most. The three of them had become a subconscious, happy family, completed with the mother, father, and the uncle.

However, often her family forgot she _was_ perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and had done that for the better part of ten years. Sometimes it took a little to remind them.

"Look, I really do know what I'm doing," Vanellope told them. She smiled a little, trying to ease their fears. "Just trust me. I'm going to go in and see Turbo." Before she could even take a step, a large hand had gripped her arm—followed by another, gloved hand on her other arm.

Vanellope was getting angry, and close to throwing one of her 'Vanellope tantrums' that she had started to grow famous for. Her lip jutted out in a scowl as she glared at Ralph and Felix. "Just let go, okay! Look, I _promise_ that he won't hurt me. And even if he tries, you're all right here with freakishly big fists, hammers, and guns!"

It took a few moments, and a few glances to each other, but the adults reluctantly released their hold on Vanellope's tingling arm. The raven-haired girl gently pushed Turbo's door open and entered the bedroom. He was awake.

Cat-yellow eyes glared at the little pixie as she came and stood at the side of his bed. He really hoped she wasn't here to try and do more 'soul searching' with him. He _really_ wasn't in the mood right now. When someone tried to force him to do something he didn't want to do, that usually ended up pretty lethal for them.

"What is it, Pixie." Turbo was far too exhausted to put too much venom into his voice.

Chocolate orbs blinked curiously at him, and then a smile drew up on her face, causing her cheeks to glow. "Pixie, huh? Well, it's better than 'Glitch'. Of course, being called that isn't even an insult anymore," Vanellope pointed out smugly.

She cleared her throat, her brown eyes burning holes into his head. "You were trying to get to the codes." It wasn't a statement, it was a fact. "But you couldn't, and do you know why?"

"Because you so obviously changed the password and my hands were chained?" Turbo snapped.

The pixie giggled. "Well yes, that too; to one so long and complicated only I know what it is. But do you know why you glitched out of control the closer to the vault you got? Or should I say, the further from _me_ you got?"

A sick feeling of dread was beginning to brim in Turbo's stomach, as it was to the trio eavesdropping from the door. He knew exactly what the pixie was implying, and so did the others.

"I linked out codes," Vanellope said. A heavy silence fell over the room, save for a dull thud, which was obviously Felix fainting.

The ex-racer sat there as the realization crashed down on him. "You did WHAT?!" he screeched at the child.

Code linking had been brought on by an experiment a long time ago, but upon discovering how many draw-backs it had, it was barely used. Code linking was the essential bond of two game characters that linked each other together permanently. Once two characters bonded by code, it was nearly impossible to separate their files safely, without damaging one of them.

Code linking was done to strengthen a life force. As of late, it was mostly done to abandoned game characters once they were adopted into a new game. Being that they weren't part of the game, the risk of death was high, especially at the hands of careless gamers.

Said game character would have their files linked to the other to give them a shared life force, with equal strength on both sides. Essentially, they were responsible for each others' lives, for if one died, the other character would instantly share their fate.

There were many things bonded characters were said to share, but it was unknown if they were myths or not. They could share minds, emotions, and had strong intuitions. They were always able to tell when who they were bound to was in some sort of danger.

There were plenty of benefits to this practice, but there were far more consequences. Sharing a life force meant extra precaution was needed on both sides for the sake of safety, and it also meant they couldn't stray too far from who they were bound to.

In short, everything was shared with linked characters. They not only shared life, but everything else. It wasn't just a physical bond, but an emotional one. The strength of links not only depended on the care for the bond itself, but also the care for each other.

"You did what?!" Turbo snarled at her, his yellow eyes wide with horror._ That's_ why he lost his strength when he reached the vault, and that was why he had visions of Vanellope! "You did what to me?!"

"Our codes," the girl said slowly, mimicking some gestures in case he didn't understand. "I linked them? Uh, _doi?_ I mean, even I know what it means."

Oh the rage, the hate. The worst part about all this was that he wasn't able to do anything to the pixie, not unless he wanted to share her fate. And he didn't.

"I _know_ what it _means_," Turbo practically spat in her face. "You _linked_ us? You linked us together?"

The snarky and teasing expression on the child's face had faded, and was replaced with one more somber and worried. "If I didn't, you would have died. What remained of your code looked like a cybug had eaten and spat it back out! I mean, would you rather have died?"

Yes! Yes, he would have—he would have preferred being ripped apart code by code—anything was better than this! Anything was better than being linked with Vanellope!

Turbo wanted to scream those words at the top of his lungs, but the ex-racer found his mouth uselessly opening and closing like a fish as he slowly flopped back into the soft sponge and shut his eyes.

There was a rattling sound, and Turbo felt the last of the chains around his arms drop onto the cake. He was fully mobile, and yet he was unable to move.

He was made up of weak, dying codes, he was unable to stray more than thirty feet from his captor, he had no way of accessing the codes, he was a _glitch_, and to top it all off, he was linked with and responsible for the one child he hated more than anything in his life.

Why didn't the cola geyser just kill him?


	5. Chapter 4 - Hidden Memories

_(I'm nervous to post this chapter, only because I've seen a few King Candy/Vanellope father and daughter fics, and I'd hate for people to think I've stolen their idea, but I've honestly had this idea for a little while now. To me, it makes perfect sense. Codes can easily be altered, but it's doubtful that a video game character could create an entire character, let alone a King without some sort of foundation. They don't have the materials to create an entirely new code. King Candy had to come from somewhere._

_So yeah, I apologize if my Turbo interfering with Vanellope and Daddy King Candy seems similar to others' ideas, but I'm going to try to keep this as unique as I can.)_

* * *

_Such a saturated, saccharine land of nightmares. Turbo wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to get used to this place, but it was the perfect opportunity he had been searching for. If the rumors he had heard while hiding low in Game Central were true and there was a King in this land, then this could be his best idea yet._

_Truly, he could invade whatever game he felt like, but Turbo preferred hacking into a newer game. This new cabinet was barely old enough to have a speck of dust on it, and therefore there was little to no possibility that his reputation had spread here yet._

_"Vanny, be careful not to fall into the Nesquick sand! Remember just how dangerous that pit is!"_

_Nesquick sand? Oh, what had he gotten himself into?_

_"Calm down, Papa, you know I can get around through the Nesquick sand just fine!"_

_As Turbo made his way further up the chocolate, fudge hill, he found he was able to see two moving forms through the tall, candy-stick straw. Turbo didn't think much of it at first until the light caught the gleam of a golden crown. The racer smirked and began to make his way down the hill._

_"Where are you, my delightful little dippy-doodle... You know I'll find you."_

_"Well I don't know about you, Papa...but I don't need help finding you. Your bald head is practically blinding me!"_

_"Oh that does it, Sugar Cookie, you're whipped cream when I find you!"_

_Turbo moved closer to the entrance of the striped, saccharine forest. He could hear the loud and affectionate laughter of both the King and his princess, and the straw began to rustle more. Eventually, King Candy's form could be seen coming out of the straw. There was a playful, prowling look to his eyes and he was crouched as he walked, stalking his daughter._

_The sight of the racer caught his vision and he quickly hurried out of the forest-followed by Vanellope. "Oh, my! A guest!" The king gushed happily._

_He turned around and cupped the princess's face in his hands. "Vanellope, sweetheart, Papa needs to go attend to some Kingly-greeting duties, so why don't you go practice driving some more?" He didn't miss the way his daughter giggled at the word "duty", and he smiled and sent her off with a kiss to the temple._

_"Welcome to Sugar Rush! Oh my, aren't you a particular, peculiar fellow?" The goofy looking cartoon-king-gone-wrong grinned at him, eyes bright and friendly, and welcoming. "Well no matter, we open our arms to anyone! Here, have some candy!"_

_The lunatic threw a handful of lollipops and gumballs at him, which merely bounced off of the racer's pale uniform._

_Something smashed quiet heavily into Turbo from behind, and sent him sprawling onto his face. Acid, yellow eyes narrowed in rage at whoever had the audacity to do such a thing, and he found them targeting a small, sheepish little girl in a pink gown._

_"Oh, Vanellope!" the King yelped. His hand wrapped around Turbo's waist to help him stand, while he bent down to scold the young princess. After giving the little titch an earful, he turned back to Turbo. "My apologies for my daughter, she is quiet the headstrong one. Racing is in her code, after all!"_

_The little twerp abruptly reached over and plucked her father's crown off of his head, and nudged it onto her own. It was ridiculously large and sloppy looking on her head, and it fell over her eyes. "And one day I'm going to be the best of the racers, and I'll be taking that crown from you, Pops!"_

_"I don't think so, you meddling little jellybean!"_

_The inside of Turbo's chest flickered with rage and an instant, festering hatred bloomed for this little brat. No one would ever be the best of the racers, because no one would ever be able to beat him._

_King Candy and the half-pint remained oblivious to this, and to the expression on his face as the two grappled playfully, which wound up with the little, pink princess in her father's grip and screaming with laughter as he tickled her belly._

_"I can tell you're obviously not from here," King Candy chuckled, as the little princess scrambled up and sat on her father's shoulders, hugging him around the neck. "But no matter! We love visitors here. My castle is open every hour of the day. Just let me know if you need anything at all!"_

_He glanced up at his daughter. "Come now, my little Vanellope, you are in need of a bath! You're still sticky from falling into that lemonade spring earlier!"_

_The retro racer watched as King Candy and Vanellope hopped into a car that looked suspiciously like it was made of white chocolate. The little doo-hicky was certainly a far cry from his old car, but it would do, Turbo thought to himself._

_One thing he did need to do was get rid of the princess. The last thing Turbo wanted was to be a King raising a sniveling brat._

* * *

"Hey, hey, shake a leg, Mr. I-am-going-to-take-over-the-arcade! Get up! Move your molasses!"

The ex-racer snarled from under his cotton candy blanket and yanked it over his face—only to have Vanellope take a _bite_ out of it. Oh that's right, the joys of living in a game made entirely of candy. Too bad Vanellope wasn't. If she was, he could simply eat her and be done with her.

Okay, that was too morbid for even _him_ to think about. Turbo repressed a shudder—and suddenly found himself flat on the floor.

Wincing and rubbing the back of his neck, the racer stared up, shocked to see Vanellope standing tall on his bed proudly. She held a marshmallow pillow over her shoulder. That little brat actually had the audacity to hit him with a pillow?!

The pixie stood in a proud stance, a large grin across her face; so smug and victorious looking he wanted to rip it right off her lips. Her entire, miniature frame shook with repressed laughter as Turbo's teeth ground in fury and he clenched his fists. This code linking was going to be so much fun.

Vanellope's playful grin faded as Turbo had another glitching episode. He gripped his head and hissed softly through his teeth. Debating between making a teasing comment and helping him up, the girl chose the latter and held out her hand. She yelped from the sudden sting as he abruptly, harshly slapped it away.

"Wow, geez, okay. Not a touchy-feely person? I get ya." Vanellope moved to his window and snapped his tootsie-roll drapes open. "The arcade opens in a few hours, so there's something I want to do before it does. But I thought I'd be nice and let you sleep a little first."

Cruel, yellow eyes continued piercing her with their glare, but if anything, it only made the pixie amused.

"Are you, like, trying to turn me into a chocolate statue with your gaze or something? Cuz I don't think you can do that."

"I _wish," _Turbo hissed softly.

The pixie only flashed him a playful grin. "Oh, I bet ya do! Now come on, _Tur-bo!_ I've got something to show ya! Follow me."

He would rather do anything but, but the threat of some more internal and external glitching and passing out from her absence was enough to push him onto his feet, and follow the young child.

It astonished him to see how happy the little pixie was, as if she wasn't walking beside the most dangerous arcade villain that the world had ever seen. In fact, she was even humming, with a small skip to her step. Turbo stared blankly from her hopping feet, to her.

"What?" the raven-haired girl shrugged. "I'm just feeling in a particular good mood today! I swear, it has nothing to do with the fact that I have total control over my worst enemy."

The pale racer shot the child an absolute death glare, but it had a faint outline of worry to it that, try as he might, he couldn't completely disguise. Oh, certainly he and Vanellope couldn't harm each other, but there were plenty of ways she could probably discover to get her revenge on him.

"Mostly everyone is still asleep right now," the nine year old began. "So you shouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing you. All of the candy citizens are back in their boxes. Good thing too, because they'd all probably freak out the moment they saw you."

Turbo slipped his gloved hands into his pockets and glowered darkly at the ground, refusing to respond. Just because he had to follow the munchkin around like a shadow didn't mean he needed to speak to her. And he wouldn't.

Turbo suppressed a loud moan once they stepped out of the castle and stared at the endless stretch of roads beyond them. Why, oh why did every generic castle have to have this never-ending, dramatic road or stairway leading up to it?

"Where's my go-kart?" he growled at the pixie.

Vanellope was already at the mangled, candy-puked-on mess that was her car and starting the engine. She sighed heavily at him and didn't meet his eye. "I think something might have happened to it during the whole cybug attack."

If she didn't know better, she'd say a flash of true sadness crossed those col,d yellow eyes, and his head briefly hung for a moment. Despite everything, the child found her heart going to the racer, as it had been for the past couple of weeks. Turbo's car probably wasn't anything like his old one, but he still had it for ten years.

Vanellope wanted to comfort him, but thought it was best to just leave the situation be. She hopped into her own car and scooted to the far left, making room beside her. Giving the dejected looking racer a gentle smile, she patted the small space next to her.

Hatred washed back over Turbo's eyes; emotions didn't stay with him for long, it seemed. Realizing he literally had no choice unless he wanted to jeopardize his health, he climbed into her car. He hated the feeling of the warm little pixie practically on his lap, her raven ponytail tickling his face.

"I want my go-kart back," Turbo muttered, practically choking on Vanellope's hair when he opened his mouth. He griped and jerked his face away from her head.

"Yeah, I know," the pixie sighed as they went speeding down the road, to what remained of Diet Cola Mountain. "I don't blame you. I mean, hey, I wanted a real go-kart all of my life." _Just be grateful you had one up until now_, was what she really wanted to add, but thought better of it.

"Look, when we get you back on the track and I teach you some stuff, I'll get you a—augh!" Vanellope didn't even have time to finish that sentence as Turbo abruptly jerked her ponytail, causing her neck to snap back to him.

"You don't need to teach me anything!" Turbo snarled viciously at the girl, who was struggling to keep a hold on the wheel and get some sense of direction of the track as the car started to swerve. "I am the best racer, and I _always will be better than you!_"

The pixie cried out as Turbo began glitching in rage, which caused her body to go up in pixels as well. "Hey, what are you _doing!?_ Are you crazy?! Let go!"

The kart jerked around rapidly, beyond both racer's control. By the time Turbo came to and out of his rage, it was too late, as the car slammed into a large oreo rock, and sent the two of them tumbling into the candy-cane forest.

Disoriented and glitching rapidly, Turbo shakily climbed to his feet. The moment he did, Vanellope shoved him back to the ground.

"Look!" The pixie's face had gone beet red in anger as she clenched her fists. "I know you hate me, and the feeling is rather mutual-"

"Then why did you save me?!" Turbo snarled. "You know I hated you and you knew I'd kill you once I finally got the chance-! Yet you save me and bind our codes together!"

"I saved you because I'm not _you!_" Vanellope practically screeched at him. She was pleased to note her tone of near hysteria shut him up. But maybe that was because he was currently occupied with a glitch. "Look, maybe it's because I'm just a stupid and innocent kid, but I couldn't just...leave you there. I couldn't just leave you to die."

Turbo had fallen silent. His hateful glare didn't fade for a second though.

"I'm not like you. I know you would have taken the opportunity to finish me if you found me like that, but..." Sighing, she let her hands drop uselessly to her side.

Silence stretched on for a few moments, reminding Vanellope of the time the two had spent together at the Fungeon. After every conversation brimmed up to some sort of emotional moment, right when it seemed like Vanellope was appealing to whatever humanity was left in him, Turbo's heart glazed over again.

And that was no different today.

The pale racer pushed himself past the dejected girl and up-righted their car. Without a word, he motioned the child to the driver's seat, and Vanellope silently complied.

* * *

"So what are we doing here?"

Turbo stood at the front of what remained of the old mountain. Memories, horrible memories of burning agony flashed through his mind when he recalled flying straight into the carbonated inferno only weeks ago.

There was almost nothing but ruins once the two stepped into the calm volcano. Turbo immediately felt a wave of smoldering heat overwhelm him, but Vanellope reacted as if she hadn't even felt any of it.

The pixie's chocolate eyes wandered over to what remained of her old home. It was bittersweet to her. On one hand, it was cleansing to not have any reminders of her old, painful life of constant loneliness and alienation, but at the same time, she had lost what was her only comfort for ten years.

"I used to live here."

Yellow eyes surveyed the volcano in silence. The child had lived in a volcano?

This area had been strictly forbidden for anyone to go near it all of these years. Despite everything - evil dictator that emotionally and physically abused a little girl aside - Turbo had a semblance of humanity in him, and the volcano had been off limits for the safety of the racers.

Of course, he never even considered Vanellope one of his subjects, and didn't have any compassion for the child, unlike the inkling of fondness he carried for the rest of his racers. He never suspected the brat lived in a volcano and was unsure if he would have cared or not.

Sure, it would have been easier if she was just dead, and if he had killed her with the multiple chances he had, _none_ of this would have happened. Of course, he never reached the true moment of wanting to actually take her life until it got to the desperate point at the races. For him, just locking her up forever would have sufficed.

"Were you really stupid enough to live here?"

The pixie's chocolate eyes hardened as she shot him a glare. "I didn't have much choice," Vanellope snapped. "I couldn't live with any of the racers, and I couldn't live anywhere where _you'd_ have the chance of finding me. I needed to be isolated and hidden, or else I probably would have spent the rest of my life in the Fungeon."

"So why are we here?" Turbo asked the pixie.

"Come here." She gestured him over. "I'll show you."


	6. Chapter 5 - Seeking Solace

_(This is by far my favorite chapter yet, and I'm sure you'll all agree. c: This is longer considering the lengths of the others, but honestly, I usually write fics that tend to be 12-16 pages per chapter. For some reason, I like keeping this simple and short. It means I can update faster._

_Portions of an RP with my friend Miccha were used for the snippets with Vanellope and her father. )_

* * *

_Vanellope was hiding underneath her bed sheets and fizzing giggles out from behind her hand. It was bath time, and although the little princess didn't mind being in a tub of sudsy water (especially with all of her delicious and edible shampoo), she always loved making it a fun habit for her father to find her._

_The little pixie squirmed to the very back of the wall and tried to keep her laughter in, especially as she heard his footsteps in the room._

_"Vanellope?" King Candy spoke up, looking around the sugar-glittered room. "Sugarplum? It's time for your bath!" He strolled around, nudging a few building gumdrop blocks out of the way as he opened the licorice closet door, and peered inside. "Come on out, you tiny, tricky truffle!"_

Don't laugh!_ Vanellope hissed at herself, but she found the giggles were threatening to burst out at any second. She tried stuffing her sleeve into her mouth, but a squeak still bubbled out, and King Candy's feet stopped near the bed._

Oh no, cover blown !_But the cheeky munchkin wasn't about to give up yet. Sneakily, she crept to the side of the bed and barely poked her head out, biting down playfully and lightly on her father's shoes._

_"Oh-ho-ho! I hear something!" A laugh as he hopped to the side of the bed, lifting up the covers. "Come on, silly snickerdoo- DAH!" The king flailed as he looked down, seeing his daughter's teeth sinking into his shoes. "Great Cadbury Eggs, Vanny- these were my new Foot Roll-Ups!"_

_The cheeky little munchkin only burst into laughter, seeing where her tiny little teethmarks indented the shoe. The tough candy went back to its original form, and the little, giggling pixie tried scurrying under the covers to make a get-a-way._

_"Oh no you don't!" King Candy burst out playfully, reaching over and grabbing the squirming lump in the covers. "You get back here, young lady! No muss, no fuss! It's bubble gum bath time!" _

_The pixie immediately started laughing, especially as the king grabbed her bundled form. She laughed and wriggled in the blankets in his arms, an adorable eye peeking out at him. _

_He peeked right back, giggling as she wiggled in his grasp. "Hi-i-i, there! 'Eye' think 'eye' know that eye! Who is that, hm? 'Eye' bet 'eye' know!"_

_The child laughed. Her father just brimmed with funny jokes and playfulness. "Oh, Papa, you're the funniest guy I know! And with such a big nose." She giggled and honked it._

_The sugary monarch blinked, a silly smile targeting the girl. "Hey, now! It's very distinguished! I mean, well, I don't mean to toot my own nose, but..." _HONK! _He squeezed it back, laughing loudly._

_Vanellope practically doubled over in laughter in her father's arms, giving it a few more squeezes and giggling at the sounds it made._

_"Bath time ho, Admiral Nose Squawker!"_

HONK! HONK, HONK!_ "Arrr, ye be right, Captain Gigglepants!" he had trouble refraining from honking his nose some more as he turned to stroll out of the room, rocking the bundled form of his daughter. "Avast! I see an island, hoohoo! An oasis of pink, frothy bubbles!" _

_The little child yipped and hopped about excitedly in her father's arms. "Yay, yay, yay! Bubble gum bath!" She hopped into the bath, completely forgetting she was fully clothed. _

_"Whoa- pffft!" King Candy shielded himself from the wave of delicious water, sputtering out a goofy laugh. "Vanny, look at you! Doing two things at once, huh? Taking a bath AND washing your clothes!" _

_"What are you talking ab-oh." The pixie looked sheepishly down at her sticky outfit and started laughing. Her cheeks flushed a beautiful pink, in that cute way her father always loved._

_"Okay, out, I have to wash myself, Papa!"_

_"Alright, alright! But don't you use up all the shampoo! Save some room for lunch!" Her father quickly left, dodging a chocolate sponge thrown at his back. Really, how in Sugar Rush did they manage to stay clean by rubbing candy on themselves? It was a mystery, but he didn't complain. _

_Having to personally supervise his daughter's messy bath time antics, the monarch sat down the hallway as he waited for her to finish, juggling a few wax bottle pins to waste the minutes. Hopefully, Vanellope didn't overflow the hallway with blueberry syrup wash again. That took forever for the cake walls to absorb._

_"Hup! Hup-hup- ooh, nearly fell! Hup!" King Candy ended the play with a flourish, grinning as he stacked them in a pyramid. "Splendid work! Not a fizzle out of place!"_

_It took nearly an hour (once Vanellope delved into the realm of imagination, she could go on forever), but at last the King's little princess finished with her bath. She was as wrinkly as a prune._

_"Papa! I'm ready!"_

Phew! About time! _No wonder it was so easy to keep her clean, no matter how many chocolate puddles she wallowed in. This bath was one of her shorter ones._

_King Candy opened the door, peering in and blinking at the wrinkly form of his daughter. "Oh, good golly gumdrops!" he replied, tilting his head. "You have too much fun in here, don't you, little raisinette?"_

_"Look at me! I look like a little homeless lady!" the little munchkin chirped excitedly, swishing around the last of the bathwater. She was still covered with foam and suds, which she nipped at._

_As her father reached to pick her up out of the tub, she grabbed a handful of bubbles and shoved them around his mouth and nose. _

_A little homeless lady who just went rabid, he assumed, but only shook his head in amusement as he leaned down to hoist her out of the tub- only to look down as she smeared is face with a pile of tickly pink bubbles._

___"My, Papa, that's quite the colorful facial hair!"_

_"Mmph!" The foam made him twitch his nose, the bubbles acting like a luxurious, frilly beard. King Candy stared at the sudsy style, but then his eyes crinkled as he laughed. "Mmph moo, fammph!"_

_The child giggled and laughed and snorted uncontrollably, especially as her father crossed his eyes playfully at her. She reached up to him, and he gently pulled her out of the tub._

_The little princess snuggled into the cotton candy towel and took a large bite out of it; to which her father softly sighed. They were running out of bath materials. She cuddled right into her father's lap as he gently rubbed her shoulders dry._

_Vanellope loved this part of bath time the most because she was able to nestle right into her father as he dried her. She loved just sitting in his lap with her arms around his neck. "Mmm...Papa..."_

_"My darling dippy-doodle," King Candy replied back, patting her damp, black locks with the pink cotton candy cloth, barely tugging it out of the way from her hungry, snapping teeth. It was nice to be able to spend time with his princess. Of course, he was in charge of a kingdom of candy-people._

_Needless to say, it was a ... 'sweet gig'._

_The tender moment both father and daughter craved was broken by a knock on the door. Sour Bill reluctantly poked his head in._

_"Your Majesty, an...odd looking visitor is here. He claims he doesn't have anywhere to stay and wonders if you'll be so kind as to offer a room to him."_

_Slipping his daughter's nightshirt over her head, King Candy smiled and set down his disappointed princess. "Ah, why it must be that peculiar little fella from before! Oh, do send him right in. I'll be there to meet him in just one moment!" He turned to Vanellope and ruffled her damp hair. "Go brush your hair, Vanny. We may have company tonight~!"_

_Turbo was lead into the hallways of the castle...by an oreo. He gazed around the castle and wondered just how much of this decor was edible. Hearing his stomach roar, he was about to test that theory on a curtain, when that annoyingly giddy voice spoke._

_"Ah, so it is you! Well, welcome, my friend. Are you here to enjoy the castle of King Candy?" the creepy little king giggled. "Perhaps go for a session in our bubble-gum-bath-spas?" He chortled more. "Please, do have a seat in one of my jelly beanbag chairs! Ohoho, puns-I'm full of them!"_

_Turbo let his body sink into the gelatin, sweet-scented candy chair, while King Candy took a seat on the other side, in an orange jelly chair._

_Turbo was a mastermind of manipulation, and it took very little effort to feign a believable gentleness to his voice, almost shy and timid sounding. "I apologize for disturbing you so late, but I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days." His yellow eyes grew wide and sad. _

_"My game was recently unplugged due to lack of gamers. I'm homeless." He bent his head down and stared at the tiles. An eye gave the sympathetic King Candy a fleeting glance and he repressed the urge to smirk. He was buying it._

_"Oh, you poor fella," the king sighed, patting Turbo on the back. He smiled warmly at the dejected racer and poured him a cup of...chocolate syrup? "That's simply tragic. Not to worry, my friend! My home is your home, for as long as you need it! I can probably see about fitting you somewhere in our game!"_

_This naive-hearted king was so stupid and kind. Turbo almost felt bad about what he was going to do to his life, and his princess's. None the less, the racer put on his best smile and nodded._

_"Thank you very much."_

_Oh, I assure you, my friend, you will fit right in with the rest of us... Um, what is your name, chap?"_

_Turbo froze. "It's...well..."_

_The moment of panic was thankfully interrupted by the annoying chirp coming from the back room, and getting closer. "Papaa! I can't find my favorite, peppermint necklace!"_

_The little pixie from earlier came scampering into the large dinning room, in what looked like cotton candy slippers and a silver-pink nightgown made out of fondant. Her chocolate eyes blinked when they saw him, and she stepped forward to get a better look._

_"Oh, you're that weird guy from earlier."_

_The King let out a nervous giggle from between his clenched teeth as he tried to flash his daughter a subtle glare. " Now Vanny..."_

_"Why are your eyes and teeth so freakishly yellow?"_

_"Vanellope!"_

_Instant fury flickered in the racer's chest, as he targeted the bold little shrimp with a venomous glare. How dare she! At least he didn't look like he should be topping a birthday cake!_

_"Oh, my deepest apologies, Sir," King Candy rushed out, giving his daughter a swat. "She's a mischievous one." He tittered out another nervous giggle, before hissing at his guilty daughter. "Apologize right now, young lady!"_

_"Sorry..." the pixie mumbled shamefully._

_The King gave Vanellope a forgiving hair-ruffle and began making his way to the kitchen. "Vanny, why don't you get acquainted with our guest and make him feel comfortable? I'm going to inform the servants we need some snacks on the double~!"_

_The princess smiled and reached into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. She bounded towards Turbo, and the racer suddenly found the little pixie snuggled in his lap. She smoothed out the crumpled wax paper and smiled up at him._

_"This is me and my Papa," she told the racer, holding up the delicate paper to his face. The scent of sugar was overwhelming, and a light tap with his finger revealed that she had painted in icing. The drawing itself was sloppy and limbs on both the princess and King looked either greatly inflated or deflated, but Vanellope was proud of it all the same._

_"One day, I'm gonna rule Sugar Rush."_

_A sneer tugged at the end of Turbo's lips at her words, but he still looped an affectionate arm around the child and pressed her against his side. The little pixie beamed up at him._

_"What's your name? I'm Vanellope."_

_Turbo cupped the little girl's pink cheeks in his hands and looked at her. The warm and affectionate smile on his lips betrayed the maliciousness in his eyes._

_"Trust me, Pixie... You and I will have plenty of time to get to know each other."_

* * *

Vanellope lead the two further up the cookie cliffs and closer to the top of the boiling volcano. The fizzing steam from the carbonated lava stung Turbo's arms, and he walked on the other side of the pixie, closer to the wall.

At last, Vanellope stopped at the very edge of the ramp, seemingly hundreds of feet above the scalding spring below them. More of the ramp had busted than Turbo recalled, but this volcano _did_ just recently erupt.

He had always been meaning to do something with this forgotten landmark. Judging by the broken pieces of track, this was supposed to be included in the game, but between racing and plotting, and chasing glitches, he never got around to fixing this.

"I want this volcano to be more than just an eye sore," Vanellope said. "And I think you and I should turn it into the track it was supposed to be."

The pale racer crossed his arms over his chest and found himself giving a smirk despite everything, amused at her ridiculous stupidity. "And how are we supposed to do that, Pixie?"

His grin fell, replaced with the same hostile look as always. "Do you see any codes around here to work with? Because I don't!" He growled, hardening his gaze at the brat. "And I'm not even able to access the codes anyway."

"Not without me, at least."

Turbo turned as the little girl stared at him.

"Once I open the vault, we can both reach the codes." Seeing the malicious glint in the racer's eyes, Vanellope flashed him half a glare and half a smirk. "But I'll be right there, and it's likely that Ralph probably will be too. Besides, our link is far at the back of the vault, and the code to the mountain is right at the beginning."

Turbo scowled in rage.

"Keep glaring like that and your face will stay that way!" the pixie giggled. Before he had the chance to snap back a comeback, she skipped away from him.

She held her thumb up in front of her face, rotating it in different directions as she measured the top of the volcano from where she was standing.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get a feel of how this renovation will work out!" Grinning, the child gestured to the top of Diet Cola Mountain.

"Don't you think it'd be the neatest thing if the track swirled all the way to the top and out the spout? Oh! Oh! Or if we programmed the volcano to go off right when the racers are going to the top and it shoots them out?"

The pale racer feigned a look of excitement. "Yes, Pixie that would work out." He scowled. "If you're planning on barbecuing the other racers!"

"Before we start the coding process, I think we should try to do some stuff manually! I bet we can knock away some rocks and Mentos from the spout if we aim carefully enough."

Turbo's eyes went wide with horror. "Pixie! You can't be serious! You'll blow up this entire mountain!"

The ignorant little kid merely wrote him off and even pushed him aside with her palm. "Oh please, I used to live here, Turbs-"

"I'm sorry, _what_ did you just call me?!"

"And I know what I'm doing. I used to throw rocks all the time when I got bored. If we're up here, the lava shouldn't get us."

Scooping up a rock, she hurled it at the opening. The rock slammed into the opening, right next to the Mento stalactites. One of the Mentos fell into the lava with a sizzling splash, but other than that, nothing else happened.

Turbo wasn't even realizing he had been in a funny position, as if he was anxiously waiting for something to attack him, until Vanellope looked over at him.

"Alright, Pixie, you took down some rocks. Let's just get home."

"Wait, wait, there's just a few more."

"Pixie! Don't hit those ones!"

Too late. The seemingly harmless rocks barely pinged off of one of the side of the mountain, and promptly ricocheted off of the Mentos. A large stack of the candies slammed into the lava. The geysers shot off instantly, although they weren't big enough to reach and injure the two racers on the broken ramp.

"See?" Vanellope smiled. "They're fine."

A thundering boom reverberated throughout the entire mountain, and it began to shake. The structure had been weakened since the eruption mere weeks ago. It hadn't had the time to recover and become a little more stable.

The two stood, frozen, as the entire volcano began to cave in around them. Both exchanged looks of horror to each other, before Turbo's face twisted into unimaginable hate.

"You _worthless_ little _glitch_," he snarled. If this was the end, she needed to know just how useless she was. The child stared at him with a look of pain before the boulders blinded her from his vision.

The walls of the structure were beginning to collapse around them. Turbo barely had time to leap out of the way of one of the large chunks of debris as it slammed into an area he had been lying in only moments ago.

His entire body began to flicker and flash rapidly, which was an immediate sign that Vanellope was in great danger. He could already feel his strength leaving from being at a far distance from his link.

"Pixie!" he shouted. "Pixie! Vanellope!" Turbo could hardly hear anything over his own glitches screeching and crackling as they grew more desperate by the minute. His knees buckled as he fell forward, ramming his hands over his ears to try and keep out the horrendous noises.

Through the thundering roar of boulders, Turbo could hear the faint, but audible cries of a child somewhere in the rubble. It was obvious who that child was.

"Vanellope!" Turbo could barely see through his vision now. Everything had turned into a screen of static, as if he was short circuiting. By some mercy, he managed to catch a glimpse of where he was now and then, but he couldn't unleash his grip on his head. The pain and pressure was so great it almost brought tears to his eyes.

The left part of the mountain had finished crumbling and now, to Turbo's horror, the rest of the volcano was starting to cave in. Carbonated lava exploded into the air like lethal, liquid fire works. Spatters of white-hot cola splashed into the rocks.

"Vanellope!" At last, Turbo had managed to target the little pixie. She was on the ground, her face a mask of tears. "Pixie, we have to get out of here!"

He jerked her up by the arm. He didn't even pull her very roughly, but the child still let out a scream of anguish and collapsed. That's when Turbo realized her leg was trapped under some debris.

Hurriedly, he carefully shoved the rocks off of her leg, but the pixie refused to stand.

"Get up!" Turbo snarled at her. He'd be damned if he was going to die in a lava bath for the second time because of some stupid kid! "Do you want to get crushed to death?!"

The child hiccuped, sobs bubbling from her throat as she held her leg. It was obviously broken, and the side of her knee had a large gash. A small puddle of blood formed under the girl's leg.

Forgetting about everything else, Turbo scooped Vanellope into his arms. The moment he did, he felt their code become stronger. In fact, he hadn't felt this strong since he was King Candy.

Dodging more falling boulders, the racer found himself doing something that was far out of his comfort zone: running. Turbo had never run before. He never had a reason to run. Whatever transportation he did, it was almost always in a car. And it wasn't because he was lazy, but it was simply what he was used to.

He _could_ jump into Vanellope's car, but driving with a little girl in his arms and risking a glitch was far too dangerous right now.

In a cheerful, sugary racing game made entirely of candy, it felt surreal suddenly being in a marathon with an avalanche of heavy debris and carbonated lava as your opponent. Such action and drama was more suited for Hero's Duty, Turbo felt.

"My car!" Vanellope suddenly cried.

The racer glanced back over his shoulder, just in time to see a huge chunk of the mountain come slamming down onto the go-kart. Even he had to gape as pieces of it went flying. Vanellope gave a heartbroken gasp and started crying right into his uniform.

The cola receded back after it had plunged a few more feet and utterly destroyed a section of candy-cane trees. The boulders had stopped rolling as well, so Turbo took a break.

The racer stood there, with the little pixie crying quietly into his chest. For a moment, it seemed that Vanellope had forgotten that the two of them were supposed to hate each other. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his form, the fabric of his clothes in between her tight little fists.

The ex-racer stood there, silently. For the first time in decades, Turbo didn't know what to feel. Rather, he was thrown into too much shock to feel angry or revolted. He obviously couldn't put the child down on a broken leg.

This wasn't the first time Vanellope had hugged him. Back then though, before it all happened, she had been a different child.

Not yet exposed to the true cruelties and abuse she was to face in her life, Vanellope had been a sweet and tender child. Albeit, she still had a bit of the sass that left her sitting in the corner from time to time, but it was different than her attitude today. She had a different perception of people back then as well. She greeted a stranger as if they were her best friend. Turbo remembered the weeks spent gritting his teeth and bearing hugs and being jumped on by the energetic sugar ball.

Playing the masquerade that he cared for them, Turbo gave the little girl permission to call him 'Uncle', as he became a 'member of the family' within days.

Even when Turbo had King Candy at his dying breaths, when he was barely anymore than a broken, sputtering code, the King had made Turbo promise that he wouldn't harm his daughter. With the shred of humanity that had been thankful for everything the King had done for him, Turbo agreed to that promise.

Of course Vanellope was abandoned into a world without her father and with a disability she couldn't understand, but Turbo had sheltered her, to some degree. When he had discovered where she was after he had reprogrammed the game, he had one of his guards "mysteriously" drop some pieces of food and money in the area she was in.

Another time had been when the little pixie had gotten too close to the race. He had locked her up, but she wasn't heavily bound with chains, and food had been brought to her. This was when the sneaky little munchkin had discovered she could use her glitch to teleport.

He had deliberately left her alive. Maybe on some level he had enough fondness for the child that he couldn't kill her, but that fondness went away over the years she caused him misery. The festering hatred the two felt for each other continued to bloom, as did their rivalry. Finally, it reached a point where Turbo figured he'd just chain the pixie up the next time he saw her.

Turbo gazed down at the sniffling little girl. He wondered if Vanellope realized what she was doing right now. Seeing the normally proud and snarky child in such a vulnerable state was something entirely new to him.

To Vanellope, it was just her childish instincts kicking in, reaching out to the only person available to her right now, whether he hated her or she hated him. Her tears continued to stain his uniform as she rested her wet cheek against his chest.

Turbo continued walking back to the castle, secretly hoping that the munchkin's family wouldn't take the sight of the injured girl the wrong way.

From in the vault at the castle, their link grew stronger.


	7. Chapter 6 - Dropping The Guards

_(Why is it my fic is the ONLY one that never seems to go to the front page when it's updated? It did that twice already, including last time! Let's hope that doesn't happen again. It's really unfair._

_Anyway, this chapter is more so a relationship developer than it is a plot developer. Enjoy~_

_Oops, and I forgot to add "Jet and Set" are names my friend gothicorca1895 came up with. As well as "Miss Vanelley".)_

* * *

_It had been two weeks. Two weeks in this damn candy land and living with insufferable, sugar-coated residents that always insisted on being so chummy and happy around him, especially the munchkin._

_"Uncle Turbo, look what I found!" 'Uncle Turbo', that's what she had adapted to calling him. As much as it made the racer shudder, it boded well for him since their 'closeness' prevented the girl from being suspicious of him._

_He was currently sitting in a patch of candied blossoms. One good thing about this land was that it gave him something to snack on whenever he needed to._

_"What is it, Pixie?"_

_The puffy-dressed little girl bounded through the flowers, and skidded to a stop in front of him. She held up a four leafed clover to his face._

_"Look, it's a four leaf clover!" She plopped down next to him and rested her head against his side. Like the ever-dotting 'uncle' he was, he looped an arm around her and ruffled her hair._

_"They say you get good luck when you find one of these," Vanellope continued. She gently smoothed the fruit-roll-up petals and then handed it to him. "Here, I want you to have it. Maybe it will give you good luck and you'll be able to get your own game again someday."_

_The racer hid a smirk in a grateful smile and pressed a kiss to the girl's forehead. Oh, the delicious irony._

* * *

The pixie had seemed to have forgotten who he was as she curled up in his arms, like he was an old-time friend or something. Either that, or she was just that upset. There was no point for Turbo to complain. It wasn't as if he could set her down after all.

Being confined in a cabinet with artificial lighting, it was always hard to tell if it was night or day. Turbo had a feeling it was early morning, but since it was Sunday there would be no gamers today regardless. At least Vanellope didn't have to worry about racing on a broken leg.

What Turbo failed to realize was that since it was Sunday, it was likely that the imbeciles the child associated with were probably waiting for her back at the castle. Unfortunately, he received that reminder when an armored woman suddenly came barreling at him with a gun.

The normally hostile look in the racer's eyes was replaced with one of ludicrous, wide eyed fear as he hopped back with Vanellope when the woman aimed at his face. He hastily shoved the yelping child into a startled Ralph's arms.

"It isn't what you think! What are you doing, you psychotic female?!"

"It isn't what I think?!" Calhoun roared. Her visage had twisted to one of complete rage as she seethed at him, and pinned him to the wall with the butt of her gun. "What's to explain? You obviously decided to go off and hurt the kid while we were absent!"

A finger strayed to the trigger of her gun without thinking, but Felix's desperate cry and his hand yanking on his wife's arm brought her back to reality.

"Darling, no!" the handyman cried. "If you kill him you'll kill Vanellope!"

Calhoun realized this with the bewildered blink of her eyes, and she scowled in rage and roughly released her grip on Turbo. The racer abruptly stumbled to the ground.

Paying the sore and livid villain no heed, Calhoun only snarled a random string of curse words under her breath as she tucked away her gun. "Damn link..." She glanced over to Vanellope. The child was no longer as distraught, but she still leaned up against Ralph's shirt and held the fabric in her fists.

"Well, what did happen then?" the wrecker demanded as Turbo pushed himself back up onto his feet. "Why is her leg like that?" A hand was around the little child, awkwardly, but genuinely patting her back.

Turbo's yellow eyes flashed with hostility. Oh sure, just because the stupid brat injured herself from her own idiocy he gets blamed. "We were at Diet Cola Mountain, and Sugar Rush's _intelligent little princess_ decides to throw some rocks at the walls. They collapsed."

Three glares fell on the pixie, to which she shrunk down in Ralph's arms at. Really, why did they care about her health so much? If she died she'd just regenerate, but he wouldn't! He wasn't King Candy anymore and therefore had no link to this game. Well, other than the pixie. Perhaps that would let him regenerate, but it wasn't a theory Turbo felt like testing.

"My car..." Vanellope miserably shut her eyes and let a few more tears roll down her cheeks. "Gone. It's nothing but...candy dust now.'" A shaking sigh rippled her form and she fell more heavily against Ralph's arms, favoring her leg.

"Oh, Miss Vanellope, don't say that," Felix tried to soothe gently, running his fingers through her black locks. "You know I can fix anything!"

Turbo had to snort. What a naive fool. "My doubts are high, Fix-It. It's buried under thousands of pounds of rock and there isn't even a part left to reattach to the kart. It's nothing but dust now."

Livid glares targeted the racer as Vanellope crumpled further, but he merely threw up his hands in exasperation. He was only being honest.

"Hey, it's alright kid," Ralph offered. A big, clumsy finger brushed against the girl's eyes as he smiled. "We can make a much better car at the bakery without drowning it in icing and sprinkles this time."

Vanellope didn't look comforted to any degree and Ralph deflated. He wasn't very good with comforting the kid in this type of situation. They all had their specialty as her caretakers. He was the fun and playful one, Tamora was the stern disciplinarian, and Felix was the cuddling one that fixed everything, including broken hearts.

Sensing Ralph's lack of skills in this area, Felix delicately took the kid into his own arms. The normally proud girl threw her head against the handyman's chest and he carried her back to her bedroom.

"Well, I'd say you certainly had a grand expedition today, Little Miss," Felix said, none too brightly as he sat down with the nine year old in his lap. "Didn't we warn you to stay away from that old mountain?" He tried to put on a stern frown, but failed under the sad tears of the child, and due to his lack of ability to be angry.

"Let's take a look at that leg now." He positioned the girl so she was half sitting and half cradled in his lap. The child instinctively shied away from his touch several times, but eventually let him look at her hurt appendage.

"It hurts." Vanellope was trying to be brave, but she couldn't hide the tears pooled in her eyes.

"I'll bet it does. That's one nasty injury, Miss Vanelley." The handyman smiled at her and held up his trusty, golden hammer. "But it's nothing this handyman can't fix."

Vanellope cried out from the fleeting pain of the hammer, but after a gentle "ding" sounded, her leg was entirely healed. Grinning, the girl happily flexed it and smiled up at the handyman.

"There! Good as new and all ready for racing and what ever else you decide to put it through," Felix laughed, giving the girl an affectionate squeeze.

"Thanks," Vanellope said, wiggling her toes inside her shoe and smiling when it caused no pain to shoot up her leg. She was gently picked up again, and this time laid under the covers. Felix sat at the edge of her bed and ruffled her hair.

"Are you alright now, Miss President?" he smiled.

Wiping the last of her tears, the girl laid back against the pillow and looked dejectedly down at her blankets. "I guess so," she mumbled, playing with her fingers. "Everything seemed to be going so well at first. I mean, Turbo had actually gone about twenty minutes without threatening me with death." She glanced up as the handyman winced. "Hey, it's a start."

Felix sighed. "Well, your big mistake was probably deciding to try and collapse Diet Cola Mountain." This time he did manage to give her a look stern enough to make her turn away.

"Collapsing it wasn't what I was trying to do! I just wanted to get a start on renovating, because Turbo and I are going to change the codes and make it into an actual race track."

Felix glanced awkwardly out the window, where he could see the odd gap in the landscape where the mountain used to be. "There isn't much to renovate now."

"At least now the space is clear to add something new," Vanellope decided. "Something safer for the races maybe? Oh, like a hot chocolate pit and a corkscrew road going through it!"

At that, Felix had to smirk endearingly and shake his head. "Safer," he muttered playfully, giving the child a gentle poke in the belly. "Right now, Miss Vanelley, you should worry about resting up. You aren't on the Rosters for today."

His smile faded when he realized something. "Actually, you won't be for a while. You linked yourself to Turbo. You can't race unless he's with you."

The girl's sleepy, chocolate eyes had already fluttered closed. "I have a plan for that," she mumbled quietly. Her head was nodding off to the side. "Tell me a story." Young brown eyes targeted him. "A story about Turbo."

A story about Turbo? That went so far back in his memory that Felix had to think, for a moment. When he spoke, there was a hazed over sadness to his eyes.

"We had all been friends when Turbo Time first came out," Felix began softly. "Turbo was a different guy back then, before the jealousy consumed him and he grew a lust for power. He was always extremely mischievous and loved to play jokes on unfortunate targets." He quirked an awkward smile. "Me.

"I woke up one morning—well, morning in the real world, but in our game it's always night—to find a few windows were destroyed. I found this peculiar because Ralph wasn't known for doing wrecking after hours. Still, I fixed it.

"I turned around ten minutes later and all the windows were destroyed again!" Felix turned to see Vanellope smile sleepily, her eyes still closed.

"I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was going on! Every time I turned more windows were destroyed. I was worried I'd need to replace my hammer by the end of that day.

"Those two silly heads had managed to keep hidden because they were quiet, but I heard Turbo sputter, and I look and see both him and Ralph on the ground laughing just hysterically!" There was a different look on Felix's face, and he gave a few blinks when his eyes stung. "I had never seen Turbo laugh so hard. Never in all my life..."

The reminiscing handyman looked back and saw Vanellope appeared to be sleeping, with a soft and contented smile on her face. Felix drifted out of his memories and leaned forward to give the nine year old a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"I really hope you know what you're doing, Vanelley," he murmured softly.

He had nearly had a heart attack and died on the spot when he found out the crazy kid had bound her code to a psychopath. He understood Vanellope's innocent mindset, but the child really didn't know what she had gotten herself into, or the danger she had put herself in.

To Felix, he had realized the Turbo that was once his friend was long gone, and he was beyond forgiveness the moment he decided to try and murder Vanellope on the race track. The handyman was a gentle and forgiving soul, but he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive a monster that tried to harm a young child; least of all one he cared for so deeply.

Sighing, Felix closed Vanellope's door quietly behind him and stared at the room just next to the girl's. He wasn't comfortable with the fact Turbo and Vanellope's rooms weren't even ten feet from each other. Albeit, it wasn't like Turbo could harm her, but still...

"Can I come in?"

"Beat it, Fix It."

Well, Turbo-Sunshine was still awake. The handyman's hand trembled as he grasped the door and slowly creaked it open.

Turbo was on his right side. His eyes were closed but he was awake. Only now, with his concern for Vanellope out of the way, could Felix see that Turbo hadn't escaped injury himself.

Timidly, like a cowering little mouse, Felix approached the bed. Something within his heart broke when Turbo's eyes opened. The yellow sparkle in them was gone, replaced with solid hate and hostility. The racer Felix had known and been close with wasn't there anymore.

"I...I thought you might like for me to take a look at your injuries."

"I'm fine," Turbo growled softly. "Worry about the pixie."

The handyman cleared his throat and attempted to sound authoritative. "No...you're not fine, and as long as you're bound to Vanellope it is our duty to look after you as well! Now, did you get hurt in the mountain?"

Several, silent moments passed and Turbo turned on his back, showing minor cuts and scrapes to the handyman.

"Don't worry, I can fix it!"

Turbo flinched as the golden hammer gently tapped his multiple wounds, but within a second the pain had disappeared. That was a handy tool, he had to give the short-stack that much. The hammer even cleaned the dirt off of him.

"You haven't changed, Fix It," Turbo muttered quietly. His voice was expressionless, and so Felix couldn't tell if he was insulting or complimenting him.

"You have," Felix whispered, too quiet for Turbo to hear.

* * *

It was probably sometime in the afternoon when the nightmares started. It was hard to tell in an artificially lit land, but it had been a few hours since Turbo had brought the pixie back home.

The racer was tossing around in his sponge-cake bed, drenching the plush and edible mattress with perspiration as Vanellope's horrific unconscious thoughts invaded his head.

_Her dream was similar to the last one. Vanellope was banging on the barrier, but it didn't look like she was trying to escape the game. Behind her was the exit, rather than in front of her._

_"Kid!" Ralph cried frantically. "We have to go!"_

_"No!" The nine year old slammed her hands against the barrier repetitively, trying to get through it. "I didn't come this far, and do everything just to lose him!"_

_That's when Turbo saw himself, the glitch, on the other side of the barrier, desperately shoving and throwing himself against it with a look of utter terror around him as the world started to vanish up into code._

Even though it had been Vanellope's subconscious, Turbo still tumbled back against his marshmallow pillow with a shaking gasp. He was absolutely drenched in perspiration.

From in the dimly lit room, Turbo felt a sudden shift at the edge of his bed. Sure enough, wide and frightened brown eyes blinked up at him. He shot a cold, yellow glare right back.

"What are you doing here, Pixie?"

The nine year old hesitated and fiddled with her nightgown for a few moments. Finally, she looked up at him and spoke in a soft and innocent voice. "I had a bad dream."

Didn't he know it. And it was about him, none the less. The only dream of his he'd consider bad having to do with the brat would be if he ended up being chained to her forever.

Turbo settled back against the bed with a deep exhale. His eyes were tired, too tired to project their usual venom. He glanced up at the pixie, who was sitting on his legs. He had half a mind to buck her off and straight into the wall, but thought against it. If he injured her badly enough, he'd feel it.

"It was...a weird dream," Vanellope went on. "A scary one. I'm not sure how to describe it." She shook her head. "I can't sleep." And then she looked at him.

Okay, he didn't care about the link—she was going out the mother fudging window if she dared ask to snuggle up with him.

"Get back to your bedroom before I drag you there by your hair."

Obviously, the pixie realized what he had been thinking as she laughed and held up her hands. "Oh, no! I just came in here...to talk. I mean, it sounded like you were awake because you were shifting around a lot."

Of course he was awake, thanks to her and her graphic nightmares. "Well, what do you want?" Turbo snapped.

"...To talk?" the pixie offered.

He could just drag the brat back to her bed and tape her there. It would have done the job twice as well, but for some reason talking didn't sound like the worst option. If Turbo was honest with himself, he didn't feel like sleeping after that nightmare either.

"Can you tell me more about Turbo Time?"

The racer shut his eyes as a familiar pang of sickness struck him. Why did she care so much about his old game? Why did anyone? With such high definition arcade names now-a-day, he was surprised people remembered Turbo Time ever existed at all.

"Tell me about the racers. What were their names?"

"...Jet and Set," Turbo said softly. The knife-like edge to his voice always disappeared when he spoke about his game, which was rare. Sadness always took hold of his tone, forgotten memories washing over him. "They were identical twins, my rivals, and my opponents."

"Were they your friends?"

Turbo stiffened, and then he glanced out the window with an off look on his face. "I don't like normally using the 'f' word," he muttered to himself.

"That's funny," the pixie grinned. "Our definition of the 'f' word is fudge! But Tamora gave me a talking to when I said that last time."

Slowly, the racer turned to the girl. The corners of his mouth almost turned up by the slightest millimeter. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Jet was the more confident one. They were both good racers, but..." He gave a cocky smirk. "I was the best one. I won most of our matches."

"Did you throw a fit like a baby when you lost?" Vanellope taunted playfully. The humanity in Turbo faded as he gave her an acid glare.

"You want to hear about my game or not, Pixie?!"

"Yes, yes, I do! Sorry, sorry! But can I ask you something?"

The racer snarled under his breath and scowled at the child. "What?"

"Racing is what's in your code, right, like it's in mine. And you love to race, right?"

Was this brat brain dead or something? He hacked into a game and killed a character just to ensure he always would be the best racer of all time, and he was willing to kill a child to make sure it stayed that way.

"Uh, yes, Pixie. I do."

The child's eyes became suddenly bleak and honest as she looked at him. "Why couldn't you just come to Sugar Rush and just ask me to be a part of the game? I mean, yeah, you're creepy looking and look nothing the characters in this game do, but we could have found a place for you."

Turbo's glare had become more tired now as he shook his head. She just didn't get it, did she? And little did she know, it would not have been her he'd be asking if he did want to join the game. Now that he thought of it, King Candy would have doubtlessly said yes out of his kind, golden heart, but that wasn't Turbo's objective.

"I was number one in my game until that wretched _Road Blasters_ came along. I wasn't settling for anything less."

"But you can't always be number one," Vanellope protested quietly. "And I'm sure, as great of a racer as you were, you were beaten by the girls, because I know they all had gold coins at some point."

"Of course," the racer answered simply. "Of course I didn't always win. Power-ups shot me down, I sometimes went off the track—many things happened in those ten years. I'm sure you watched some of the races." He smirked. "But most of the time I won."

"...Isn't that kind of the same situation then?" Vanellope questioned honestly.

"Is what?"

"The fact that you had to settle with not always being number one in Sugar Rush, just like you had to in reality. You couldn't be number one all the time in Sugar Rush and you could handle that, so why couldn't you in your game?"

Vanellope could tell she had irked the villain, as his eyes narrowed and darkened in anger.

"I don't need to justify my motives to a child," he snarled. "Why don't you just go to bed already?"

There was silence for a few moments, and Turbo could tell by the warmth leaving his legs that the child wasn't sitting on him anymore. He heard the bed shift and felt her staring at him, but he closed his eyes.

"...I would have let you."

"_What?_" the racer hissed softly.

"I said I would have let you," Vanellope mumbled back. "I would have let you be a part of my game."

Glaring silently, Turbo propped himself up on his elbows to stare down at the pixie, but she had already fallen asleep at the end of the bed.


	8. Chapter 7 - Reaching Out

_(Wow, again, I cannot thank you all enough for your support. Someone linked this to tumblr, and bloody hell, reception to this fic just flowed. I want to thank each and every one of you that's favorited or reviewed or just silently loved this fic. And a huge thank you to who recommended it to tvtropes. It would be amazing if it got its own page._

_Anyhow, in this chapter, we see a little deeper into Turbo's heart when a certain day occurs._

_Also, please check out "Ghost Boy" by gothicorca1895. It's based off a RP we did together.)_

* * *

"_Papa, do you really have to go to Tappers?" Vanellope stood at the door, rocking on her two feet and whining as she pulled at the fabric of her father's kingly robe he always loved to wear when he went out. "I want us to play some more."_

_The sweet monarch smiled and pressed a loving kiss against his precious little daughter's forehead. The child pouted and rubbed it off instantly. Vanellope's normal reaction to a kiss would be to giggle and pat one right back on his cheek, unless she was angry. In that case, the munchkin smeared it off her face._

_"Come now, my little snickerdoodle. We play all day long, but at night Papa wants to have some time for himself and go to places while his little pumpernickel sleeps away." _

_He smiled and turned to the narcissist racer standing at the doorway next to him. "Besides, Uncle Turbo will be here to play with you while I'm gone. I'm sure the two of you will have sugar-loads of fun together. He always takes the best care of you."_

_The flash of malice was too quick to catch, and perhaps if King Candy had realized the deeper meaning to Turbo's words, he never would have left his daughter that night._

_"Indeed, and I'll always take the best care of her."_

_King Candy flashed his friend a grateful smile and looked at his daughter. She was still pouting and frowning up at him, with hard brown eyes that didn't look like they wanted to relent in their glare._

_King Candy bent down to his daughter's height and quirked a silly grin at the girl. The child's mouth twitched, but she fought to keep a straight face. The King stuck his fingers in either sides of his mouth and wiggled his ears, causing the munchkin to instantly burst into laughter._

_He gave his princess an affectionate and warm smile as he gently cupped her face in his hands._

_Turbo had to suppress a roll of the eyes when he realized the rhyme was coming. They always had this silly, sappy little rhyme they did before they parted for a while, or to go to bed._

_"I like you more than the stars and the moon," the King began._

_"And I love you more than the sweetest cupcake, and ice cream with a silver spoon,"_

_The king drew his little girl closer to him, and brushed candy sprinkles from her raven hair. _

_"And as long as we're together, this love will never stop,"_

_"No matter what we go through, we'll come through, like a cherry on top."_

_The two finished their little nursery rhyme with the gentle rub of their pink noses and a final kiss on the cheek. Once King Candy was finally gone, Turbo swooped the pixie up onto his shoulders by the underarms._

_"Come on, Pixie. Let's go play for a while before this night ends."_

_Before _everything_ ended._

* * *

Over time, Turbo became a lot less hateful. From the racer's standpoint it was pointless and wasted too much energy hating a child he had no choice but to protect.

That's not to say he softened on the pixie, but he had stopped with the death threats and didn't glare murderously at her every time she looked at him. He had become more docile and some of the wildness and rage was gone.

Living with Turbo was surprisingly less frightening than Vanellope thought it would be. Now that he had no power or control over her, he just wasn't that intimidating anymore. Vanellope's family no longer went up in arms whenever she and Turbo were in the same roos together. Turbo had even gone a few days without being threatened by a gun.

Their link had strengthened as well. The two of them could be at a farther distance from each other now without any complications. Turbo didn't glitch often, and thus, had been healthier.

Except for right now. Currently, he felt like his lungs were clogged with a thick molasses.

It took a few moments sitting up in a black haze of choking smoke before it dawned on Turbo.

"Vanellope!"

The racer desperately shoved the cotton candy off of the sponge bed and bolted down the hall. The smoke became thicker the further Turbo ran. His body twitched and glitched rapidly, but it didn't stop his dash. If the castle was on fire he needed to get the pixie and himself out before it was too late.

"Pixie! Vanellope, where are you?!"

From in the black clouds, Turbo could hear the muffled cries begging for help somewhere hidden in the smoke. Turbo inhaled sharply on a constricting cloud of smoke and coughed. He waved his hand in the air and finally saw where the smoke was coming from: the oven.

Grimacing and coughing, Turbo pulled on the handle of the oven and was immediately blasted with another cloud of smoke. Turbo waved it away with a wince and finally saw what was the trouble.

Perched on a metal rack inside of the oven, there was something in a pan that looked like it may have been edible at one point. That was a far cry from the way it looked now. Turbo caught sight of an open recipe book turned to a page with chocolate cake. Whatever was in that pan looked more akin to a lump of coal than a cake.

"Help!"

The racer shook his head at the dilapidated mess in the oven and hurried over to a wobbling...bucket?

"Uh...Pixie?" Cautiously, the racer approached the tin, and was startled to see a pair of legs sticking out of the top and kicking frantically at the air.

It would have been more amusing to leave the pint-size there. Watching her frenzied wiggling and listening to her helpless squeals was absolutely ludicrous, but as funny at it was, it would be dangerous to just leave the kid in a can, in a room of smoke.

Turbo yanked the girl up by a leg—and he almost dropped her back into the bucket as he repressed a huge wave of laughter. The idiotic little munchkin's pink sleepwear and raven hair couldn't even be seen under the blanket of white from where the flour had absolutely _covered_ her.

The only thing on the girl that wasn't white were the annoyed flecks of brown in her eyes targeting his desperately twitching lips.

"Okay, you can put me down now." Vanellope realized immediately that she should have worded that more carefully as Turbo merrily dropped her on the floor and on her head.

"What by all of Sugar Rush were you doing in here? Besides trying to burn down the whole castle."

"Well..." The child reached over and scooped up her ruined, possibly-alive concoction from the counter and glanced down at it. Experimentally, she stuck a fork in, and it snapped in half. "I thought I'd surprise you with this cake."

Confusion entered Turbo's yellow eyes as he narrowed them suspiciously at her. "You burned down the kitchen because you were trying to make a cake for me?"

The child immediately gave a laugh and slapped her knee, as if that was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Turbo's glare deepened.

"Yeah right! Don't make me laugh, Pajama Boy! I may have taken you in and everything, but there's a heck-of-a-lot you'll need to make up for before I ever make you a cake. " She emphasized that with a playful jab to his chest, but Turbo hardly noticed it. He was far too busy bristling over what she had just called him.

"Pajama Boy?!"

"Yeah," the cheeky brat grinned. "That uniform makes you look like you're ready to hop into bed for the night."

Turbo flared with anger and ground his yellow teeth together. "How dare you, you little parasite! This is the finest racer uniform ever programmed to be in a game! At least I don't look like I'm ready to fish teeth out from under peoples' pillows. Honestly Pixie, the only thing missing is the wings."

It was Vanellope's turn to darken. "Excuse me? I don't look like a fairy, for the last time, Pajama Boy! And at least my teeth don't look they're been dyed with yellow food coloring!"

The racer's eyes narrowed. "Pixie."

"Pajama Boy!"

"Pixie."

"Yellow teeth!"

"Pixie!"

"What!"

"The stove is on fire."

"What?!"

The munchkin spun around and stared in horror at an orange burst of embers rising from the stove. Turbo yanked her back by the arm right before another puff of flames nearly shot up into her face. Within seconds, the entire stove was up in flames.

Vanellope shrieked and raced around in circles like some sort of headless chicken. "There's a fire, there's a fire, there's a fire! Somebody help!"

Turbo watched the frenzied idiot for a few seconds, before giving an agitated growl and realizing he'd need to wrangle the inferno himself.

Hastily, the racer tore off a candy striped fire extinguisher off of the wall, and ripped off the pin. A torrent of white foam shot from the nozzle of the extinguisher and terminated the flames with only a few clouds of smoke remaining.

Tilting his pale face at the dripping, white clouds on the stove, Turbo stuck a finger into the mixture and took a cautious lick. "Whipped cream?"

Still panting and shaking from behind a curtain, Vanellope scowled at him. "I'm not the one that had everything programmed into this castle!"

The racer rolled his eyes and tossed the empty extinguisher over his shoulder. "So what's the cake for? If it isn't for me to eat." He grimaced as he glanced warily over his shoulder, as if expecting her burnt creation to come alive and devour his head.

Vanellope brushed off a layer of flour. "Tomorrow is the eleventh anniversary of Sugar Rush!" The child grinned. "And for the first time ever I'm going to be leading it. Oh, it's going to be so cool!"

The child was blind to the way Turbo's body suddenly stiffened as she continued skipping around his frozen figure, excitement flooding from her peppy form as she chattered on. "I mean, I always dreamed of actually attending the anniversary like everyone else, but to actually _lead_ it! I think I might puke! Like, I really do think I could...could vurp!"

The hatred that had actually begun to simmer to a calm during the past couple of weeks resurfaced with a tremendous burst of rage as he ground his yellow teeth together. The anniversary.

The moment the arcade lights turned off, multi-colored sparks alighted the sky in Sugar Rush. Unlike most fireworks, they were darker colored to be seen in the always-day-time sky, but they were celebratory none the less.

King Candy would stand at the edge of the balcony and announce the celebration to the land, as the candy citizens from below cheered and screeched in delight. Banquet tables of all sorts of crusted pastries and candies (without faces) would be laid out for a feast.

He the King would go over the platitudes of how wonderful all of the racers were and everyone that made the game-the usual mantra of stupid appreciation.

Every so often, as each anniversary went by he'd catch the glimpse of a dejected, raven-haired little girl watching from afar.

"Hey, Pajama Boy. Are you alright? You've gone all...quiet."

A sudden look of unimaginable hate twisted up the racer's face as he gave an enraged scowl and abruptly, fiercely shoved the little girl over, back into the bucket of flour. He stormed away quickly, making it a note to slam the door before he left.

Vanellope pushed herself out of the silver bucket with a grimace, and rubbed at her flour, coated eyes.

"Geez. I guess I should go see if Sour Bill wants to taste test this Cake-ala-burnt."

* * *

Running a celebration was hard. There was a lot that Vanellope needed to get used to once she became the voice of her entire game. For one, she needed to get used to the feeling of sleeping in an actual bed rather than be surrounded with trash, and struggling to keep her body warm in thin, plastic wrappers.

Another thing the little president had needed to get used to was the feeling of love. Anyone that knew her story was heartbroken over the fact that she, a child, hadn't had someone to reach out to, and once Vanellope did, it had been frightening; To go from being an alienated little girl to being the most loved little girl from her subjects, her family, and even the humans that chose her. That had been a big step.

Suddenly having all this responsibility was an even bigger one.

"Okay, a liiiiittle to the left. No, no, a little to the right! No, now the left again. No, no, that's too left! Move it over just a little bit more. No, that's too much more!"

Two struggling lollipop characters felt their sticks ready to break underneath the weight of the pink, sugar-ice sculpture. The two candy pieces barely managed to slide the sculpture up to where the president wanted it (the original place they had picked it up from in the first place) before they collapsed.

"Perfect!" the child piped happily. She flipped through her note pad with her icing-dipped quill and happily shut the small book. "Great, I think everything is all set for the celebration later! All the fireworks are ready and in place as well."

"Nice job, kid." Ralph slapped her a high-five and winked. "You were all worried for nothing. All the planning went great."

"Yeah, now let's see if the actual celebration goes great."

"You've nothing to worry about, Miss Vanelley," Felix chuckled as he ruffled the child's hair. "Everything will be perfect."

Vanellope hadn't see Turbo in a day; not since the fire hazard. He had stormed off and hadn't been seen since. Obviously, he was close by. If he wasn't she'd be glitching up and down the walls, but that racer sure knew how to keep himself hidden.

"I wonder how Pajama Boy is doing."

"Pajama Boy?" Ralph snorted. "He lets you get away with calling him something so degrading?"

The cheeky munchkin winked at the wrecker. "Not much he can do to me thanks to this link." The impish grin fell from her face, and was replaced with one of more concern as she stared off in the direction of the hall. "I haven't seen Turbo since yesterday morning, and I'm a little worried about him."

She shrugged. "I mean, yeah, he's always mumbling about ways to kill me—that's just normal, but...but..." She sighed. "I don't know. He's acting...different."

Something compelled Felix to look at the calendar, and when he did, realization crashed down on him like a bucket of frigid water. He stared up at Ralph and wondered if he remembered.

"You said that Turbo always loved hosting these anniversaries as King Candy?" Ralph asked the girl.

"Yeah, from what I saw. He always looked so happy."

"Give him some time to get into the spirit and I'm sure he'll be fine."

_I wouldn't count on it._

Felix left both the child and wrecker to chatter on about the celebration as he walked silently through the candied halls.

It was funny how Felix just somehow, automatically knew exactly where to go. He still hardly knew his way around the castle, but yet he just knew where Turbo was anyway.

Perhaps it was the time they spent together that gave Felix a deep insight on Turbo-deep enough that he knew where he'd be in a time of trial. Felix could remember finding the racer gripping the rails on the balcony of the Pen-house This was often after everyone had gone to sleep, and Turbo had supposedly gone home.

In the beginning, the racer always opened to him about whatever he was feeling. Near the end, he became far more recluse and cold. But perhaps that was Felix's fault. He got so tired of Turbo's whining when Road Blasters came along that he chose not to listen to him anymore.

A fatal mistake.

Sure enough, the hunched, white form of the racer was standing there and holding onto the candy railing. If it wasn't for the different setting and pink, cotton-candy clouds, Felix was certain they were back in that time, where Turbo had been a misinterpreted mess when he still did maintain a semblance of humanity.

"The anniversary."

Turbo's head shot up as he stared into the distance with baited breath. His pale knuckles gripped the rails of the balcony and his mouth set into a firm, and stone cold line. He refused to show any sign of weakness to his enemy.

His enemy, the lanky handyman, stood behind at the entrance of the balcony. Felix gripped his hammer like a security blanket, frowning cautiously at the back of Turbo's head.

"It's the anniversary. That's why you've been acting so weird, and that's what you've been keeping from Vanellope."

The racer spun around sharply and pierced Felix with a pair of cold and harsh yellow eyes. "I'm not entitled to tell the child anything, so therefore, I didn't keep anything from her."

Felix shrugged and gave a soft chuckle, walking up and sitting next to the racer as if he had invited him. "I don't think you even needed to say anything, neighbor. Your codes are linked, remember? She can feel whatever pain you're going through."

_Damn __**LINK.**_

He couldn't remember the last time he had hated her so much. No, scratch that—he couldn't remember the last time he had hated that _link_ so much. Oh certainly it wasn't his idea of a good time having to be the protector of a sniveling brat, and it certainly wasn't a comfort that an accident and _fire hazardous child_ was the keeper of his life, but honestly, he had grown to live with that.

What he couldn't stand was the instant connection the two had to each other's minds and emotions. He hated being awoken by the kid's nightmares and feeling her instant vulnerability. And he hated the thought that she could see into his mind and his heart.

However guarded and heavily blocked it was, it still had its own private pain that he intended never to show. Here a child could easily peer into him. He couldn't hide anything from her.

"She's worried about you. She knows you loved the anniversaries so she's wondering why you're acting this way."

"I'm acting this way because it IS the anniversary!" Turbo screamed hatefully. Only Felix, the one person that could see deep into the racer's heart without a link could hear the hidden pain laced in the venomous tone.

"It's the anniversary, and without preparations for the celebration in Sugar Rush to keep me busy I'm forced to think about it. As if remembering the good times would actually do any good."

Felix shut his eyes. The anniversary of Turbo Time's arrival happened the day Sugar Rush was plugged in twenty years later.

That day, that one day out of three hundred and sixty four others was the one day that Turbo felt the true stabs of pain and remorse that he couldn't hide. The memories, good and bad, racked at his brain and repetitively demanded entrance to his closed up heart.

It was the one day, that after the celebration, the King would lock himself in his bedroom and refuse to come out. It was the one day that he wouldn't participate in the Random Roster Race. His subjects never gave it a second thought when Sour Bill made all of the announcements during the race. They all assumed he was simply tired from the night before.

No one would ever know what really went on in that seemingly merry heart of the King. Even Sour Bill always wondered why he'd always find his King's room in shambles; things shattered everywhere.

"I know you're in pain." Felix's voice had become soft and soothing. The pity in his eyes made Turbo want to stab a fork through them. "I know you, Turbo. I know this day is hard for you, however much you want to hide it. If you would just let us help-"

No sooner had Felix spoke the words did a vase come careening into his face. Through the agony, the handyman immediately felt the warm trickle of blood. With a gentle tap of his hammer the broken nose was fixed.

"I don't NEED your pity!" the racer screamed. He spun around roughly. "Just leave me alone."

"Fine," Felix said softly. Sad, blue eyes glanced back before the handyman slowly shut the door to the balcony.

* * *

As always, it was still bright outside in the saccharated land, but Turbo had made it a point to make it as dark in his bedroom as he possibly could. His tootsie-roll drapes had been so violently yanked on that the rims of them had crumbled off; pieces scattered among the floor.

After Felix had left him, Turbo had intended to find somewhere to hide for the day. At least until he'd need to pull himself away from solitude during the damn celebration.

That hadn't been in the pixie's agenda. Oh no, only mere hours later, the child came bounding up to him. He wished he could have just hurled her over the balcony so he could be alone, but since he couldn't, he had to suffer with her.

The girl had dragged him back to the kitchen, where there were still char marks on the walls and floor. She had wanted him to bake a cake of all things to do! A cake for the anniversary.

He wanted to say no, he should have said no, but the miserable brat only blackmailed him with the notion that she'd go far enough from the castle to interfere with his health if he denied.

The celebration had been rough. As King Candy it was always a bitter situation, and the worst part was having to disguise his true feelings underneath the visage of happiness and joy his subjects always counted on. Thinking about it again, Turbo was glad the pixie took the reins this time.

Vanellope had acted strange this evening, being that she hadn't forced him to come to the celebration, as if she knew he wanted to be alone. She had only left for a brief moment, long enough to make a speech to her subjects.

He was surprised the girl hadn't come to drag him to the festivities. Despite how hard Turbo had tried to mute the sounds of laughter and joy outside, it leaked in easily.

Since Turbo didn't have a lock on his door he decided that shoving whatever spare furniture he could against it would suffice instead. The only person that could possibly break down such an armored door would be the wrecker.

He was finally safe from the stupid pixie. That had been his original motive to bar his door. If he had to see anyone, let it not be the brat. He knew Vanellope would develop a bleeding heart again and try to make him feel better, and he just couldn't deal with that.

For once, it wasn't just the fact that he hated the child, but simply because he wasn't emotionally nor mentally prepared to endure whatever else she'd try to put him through.

He hated the child, but he had come to realize why he did. It wasn't because she had ruined his plans, as infuriating as that was. It wasn't because she was more intelligent than him. It was because she was _stronger _than him.

All those years, all that abuse—every attempt to shatter her life at her feet never broke her. The years of abandonment and neglect he knew she had suffered, and yet it hadn't destroyed that annoying innocence. No matter what he had done to hurt her, he was never able to break her. Yet, she had broken him as easy as if he was a fragile piece of glass.

At first, Turbo ignored the dull knock on the other side of his door. The next time it sounded, he turned and glared at the door.

"Get lost, Pixie."

The voice on the other side was surprisingly serious. "No. Let me in."

Turbo's yellow eyes glazed over with hate and he nearly shook with rage. "I'd rather personally dive head first into the Diet Cola Hotsprings!"

When there was no answer he assumed the brat had gotten the point. Then there was a sudden flash of blue and she was in his room, on the other side of the furniture propped against the door.

Oh that was right. The munchkin could teleport, and he had just wasted a half hour stacking things against his door for nothing.

Turbo didn't say anything when the child approached his bed. He merely continued to stare off into the distance, his mind elsewhere. He felt the bed shift and knew the child had her elbows propped against the mattress, but he didn't look at her.

"Whatcha doin'?"

As if he'd actually tell the brat what he was thinking about. "Thinking of ways to eliminate you."

A wide grin drew up the nine year old's face as she abruptly grabbed Turbo by the arm. "Great! But you can do that where we're going."

Although it was beneath him, Turbo still yelped as he was yanked off his bed. He would have slammed onto his face if his boot hadn't caught the floor in time. He tried to yank away from the girl, but she held on with astonishing strength.

"I don't think so! I'm not going _anywhere_ with-" His furious retort was cut off as his body suddenly flickered blue, and after a white flash stung his eyes, he was outside the door with her.

The cruel little pixie didn't even give the poor racer a chance to recover from the dizzying teleporting as she began dragging him down the halls. Turbo would have been far more resistant if he was more coherent from the taxing transportation.

His vision was only beginning to regulate back to normal when they stopped in a dimly lit room. The racer could only make out a few small flickers of light in the center of the room.

The faces before him began to take shape. They carried mixed emotions, but one small face of a handyman in particular was visibly kinder than the rest of them. Slowly, Turbo walked over to the source of the lights: burning candles.

It was the vanilla cake Vanellope had forced him to bake with her. It had the same spread of rainbow sprinkles and tiny pieces of peppermint shards, but there was something different. In the middle of the cake, messily scrawled but still understandable, read _Happy 31st Anniversary._

No one had said a word yet. Turbo could feel the pixie's eyes on him and he turned to her. For the first time, his expression wasn't mixed with a glare. It was only confused.

"What is this," he practically whispered.

The munchkin's cheeks lit up a precious pink as she smiled sheepishly and rocked back and forth on her feet. "Happy anniversary, Pajama Boy.

"Every great game deserves to be honored on its anniversary, whether it's active or not!" She smiled and gestured to the cake. "So this is for Turbo Time." The gentle smile on her face had become almost bashful as she looked at her shoes. "I hope you find it _Turbo-tastic_."

The room was still utterly silent and all eyes were on Turbo. The narcissist racer was literally unable to say a word.

Finally, Ralph broke the silence as he loudly cleared his throat. "I'm not going to eat a cake that has wax dripping all over it. Someone blow out the candles already!"

Turbo walked, somewhat mechanically up to the cake and leaned over. His chest had become so tight that he was hardly able to sputter out a single breath. A raven head joined him at his side and helped blow out the embers on the wick of the thirty-one.

Claps echoed around the table, and Turbo gazed up to see far more than just the usual imbeciles that hung around this castle. There were the Sugar Rush racers, Pacman, of course, and even Quebert.

From at his side, the little pixie blew into a party blower and smiled, grabbing a silver, carving knife. "And thus commemorates the thirty-first anniversary of the day Turbo Time came into our lives!"

The racer glanced down at the little pixie. Vanellope beamed back up at him, her doleful chocolate eyes practically piercing his dark soul.

"Pixie..." He hated how the actions of this infuriatingly kind child had left him baffled. "Pixie, this... I." He stared down at the cake. "I mean..."

The child laughed, which prompted a scowl from Turbo. "You should get into the practice of thanking people more often. You might be able to make it more believable."

* * *

_"Another wonderful day of racing, as always. But geez, Turbo, do you have to be so rough?"_

_The other racer echoed Jet's sentiments. __"One of us always seem to be picking grass from our clothes and dirt from our teeth by the time we're through racing."_

_The conceited glint in Turbo's eyes shone, but at this time it was more playful than anything. He gave Jet a nudge with his elbow and leaped up onto the racer's pedestal, standing in his usual spot with the shining number one painted on it._

_"I took it down by maybe ninety five percent. Hey, at least your racing outfits are still in tact this time," Turbo laughed. The twins gave their friend synchronized scowls and crossed their arms._

_"Turbo! Hey, Turbo!"_

_Lowering the gleaming trophy in his gloves, Turbo turned to see his friend bounding towards him. Turbo could tell by the excited sparkle in Felix's eyes that Felix was going to be chattering like that Donkey Kong high on bananas once he managed to catch his breath again._

_"What's got your tongue, Fix-it? Or should I say your breath?"_

_"They're adding a new game to the arcade!"_

_Oblivious to the events that were about to occur, Turbo's eyes only radiated with just as much excitement. It was always a big deal when some new game was plugged in and another world was added to their universe. "Interesting, what's the game?"_

_A bashful, tiny blush lighted Felix's cheeks when he realized, to his embarrassment, he forgot the title. "Uhm...golly, I can't remember. Had 'Blasters' in there somewhere."_

_"Probably another one of those asteroid games. We'll have to teach the characters a thing or two if they want to survive in this arcade!"_


	9. Chapter 8 - The Way To The Heart

_(A very large part of this is completely based off a roleplay with a friend on deviantart, and I won't say much more except that this chapter will punch you in the ultimate feels. There's also a bit of foreshadowing._

_Listen to "You Needed Me" - Anne Murray; sappy as that song is, it suits them to a tee. Especially a certain scene._

_This is the definitive, story-altering chapter. c: I hope you all enjoy it...)_

* * *

_"King Candy, long time no see!"_

_The monarch rolled his eyes and laughed as every character in Tappers dramatically kowtowed upon his arrival. That had been a running gag since the arcade had met the kind-hearted King._

_King Candy didn't visit Tappers as much as he wanted to. From what he heard, it was the sole place to be after gaming hours, but what the King also knew was that not many of the other characters had children._

_Every waking moment of after-hours was spent with his beloved daughter and he wouldn't have it any other way. Racing was a fun gig, but his true life commitment was his darling Vanellope._

_"Rise, my subjects," the King playfully joked, earning chuckles from all around. "The King bids you all to sit. O-hoo-hoo-hoo!"_

_"So what'll it be, your highness? Root beer?"_

_"Don't be ridiculous, Tapper! Hit me with the hard stuff!"_

_"So Pepsi then?"_

_"You got it!"_

_The King guzzled down the mug of frothing liquid with a foam mustache painted around his lips. "Hohoho, Tapper, don't you think this mustache makes me look so distinguished~?" His tongue comically slid out of his mouth and lapped the foam right off his lips with a ludicrous slurping sound._

_Tapper immediately started laughing. "Candy, you need to start coming here more often. We need humor like yours once in a while. I tell you, Pacman's bit where he eats everyone's cherries off of their floats and Satan joking about stealing everyone's souls is getting really old."_

_The sugary monarch laughed. "I'd like to come here more, but I have a responsibility to my daughter. That little sugar-snap takes up all of my attention, but that's why I love her."_

_A musing look came to his face as he slid his cheek down against his outstretched arm on the counter. "Actually, there is one thing I'd like to change. As fun as racing can be, it'd be fun to try something new every so often."_

_He chuckled and spun his glass. "One day I should take a trip into someone else's game and see what their life is like during hours." He stared ahead when he realized Tapper had frozen, and he didn't have that usual smile of amusement on his face._

_"Candy, are you talking about going Turbo?" At that, a hush fell over the bar and several heads turned to look at the two._

_The monarch, oblivious to the cause of the tension, only chuckled awkwardly. "Well, I'm not sure because I don't even know what that word means. But it's a funny term being that I have a fr-"_

_"There isn't anything funny about it, Candy," Tapper hissed. Upon seeing the look of genuine confusion on the King's face he softened his tone. "Ah, that's right. You don't leave the arcade much and you're a newer game."_

_He leaned in, speaking in hushed tones with the curious King. "Turbo refers to an old villain in this arcade. He was from an old racing game that used to be popular among the gamers."_

_The King was certain everything Tapper had said drowned out to nothing in his buzzing ears after he confirmed this 'Turbo' had been—was-a real character, and a villain._

_"When another game stole his thunder he abandoned his game and set to corrupt it. He got everyone killed—the other game, his own game, and even himself. All terminated."_

_Tapper gave the king a friendly punch in the shoulder. "That's not to say that I think you'd ever go Turbo, but around here you need to be careful even with the joking. The wounds that guy made are still pretty deep. And the fear is still strong."_

_King Candy's creamy face had blanched several shades of white as he felt his entire body grow cold._

_A pleading doubt wanted to insist and protest against his common sense telling him that the shady character he had sheltered for three weeks was someone different, but his heart knew better._

_A racer, a mysterious character, the way the villain's smiles never seemed to reach his eyes... King Candy had always assumed that was the result of the abuse Turbo had supposedly been through having his game unplugged, but now..._

_"Vanellope," King Candy murmured, almost calmly. Panic struck his heart like a knife, and with terror in his eyes, he bolted for the door._

* * *

Vanellope felt a strange, overwhelming wave of nausea that accompanied her form with chills. She hastily tied her housecoat around her, but the blanket of sugary fondant didn't provide very much warmth.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt this way. Actually, the painful realization was that she did remember the last time she felt this way: when her body had begun to glitch in the past. As it did with Turbo, the glitches in the coding always brought pain and sickness, but they went away with time.

Contrary to what anyone would think, game characters were as real as human beings on earth. Their codes programmed them to have whatever a normal human would and the only real difference was that they were only programs.

But they could still feel pain, sickness, and general discomfort. However, real ailments were usually caused by some sort of virus in their coding. Like a human had antibodies to protect their immune systems, codes normally had their own spyware to terminate any malware easily.

None the less, Vanellope wasn't about to let a simple virus get her down, if that's what she did have. For all she knew, these strange symptoms could simply add up to resulting exhaustion from the party last night.

It had been...interesting, to say the least, attempting to get a previoulys homicidal-psychopath engaged in a party.

The party, of course, wasn't able to go on without some extreme tension in the atmosphere, and especially, fear with the Sugar Rush racers. If Vanellope didn't know any better, she'd say Turbo actually might have been slightly hurt by the childrens' reaction of him.

After all, even though it was all a masquerade, he had lead and guarded them for ten years. The children had acted as if they didn't even remember who he used to be. Of course, realizing your guardian was actually this ghostly and cruel manipulator probably didn't provide too much security.

In the end though, Vanellope didn't care how much fun everyone else had. The only thing that mattered was if having this anniversary may have finally given Turbo a slight peace of mind.

"_PIXIE!_"

Oh cream cakes, and speak of the devil. The child could instantly tell by the fierce roar from the racer that he had probably found the glitter and sprinkles coating his racing boots. Hey, it was well justified payback for shoving her back into that bucket of flour the other day.

Vanellope didn't even have time to put on her cotton-candy slippers as she went skidding out of her bedroom with Turbo in close pursuit behind her.

Her body's utter lack of its usual luster had the enraged, gray-skinned racer catch up in a flash. Turbo's cold hand wrapped around the back of her shirt collar as he lifted her; frightened and sheepish brown eyes met seething yellow eyes.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pop your pretty little head clean off your shoulders and use it as a bowling ball." OH, he was _mad_. No one dared to mess with Turbo's uniform. In Vanellope's opinion, it could use some girly, craft glitter to fit into this game more.

The child twiddled with her fingers nervously and gave him the sweetest smile she could muster. "Um...code linking~?" Blue, glowing lines briefly rippled her body, but she found she was unable to take control of her power.

Turbo's lips twitched in rage as he searched around for a suitable and somewhat humane punishment. He roughly threw the little girl over his shoulder and stormed to the bathroom, kicking open the graham-cracker door.

Vanellope shrieked when she realized what was happening, and she desperately pounded her fists against the racer's back when she heard the water starting.

"No, no, no! Put me down, you creepy little man in pajamas!"

"They're NOT pajamas!"

Her screeching left her throat hoarse within seconds, and she gave a congested sounding cough. Turbo rose an eyebrow at this, but thought nothing of it as he pulled Vanellope off his shoulder by her ankle and dangled her over the tub of icy water.

Curling her body up frantically and wriggling like a worm, the munchkin curiously reached out a reluctant finger. The moment it touched the surface of the cold water, she squealed and pulled away. She scratched desperately at Turbo's hand like a wild animal caught in a trap.

Turbo only cackled and gave a sneer. "I wouldn't try to make me let go if I were you. Any last words?"

"You wouldn't drown me!"

"Tempting, it really is. Unfortunately, due to the _arrangements_ we're both forced to be in, I'll have to pass. Turning you into a Vanello-cone will have to suffice." He snickered. "Wordplay, I still got it."

Vanellope shrieked as she felt the racer gleefully loosen his hold on her ankle. Her rapid breathing made her break off into a fit of coughing as her body briefly pixelated again.

"Turbo, come on, I'm sick! Seriously, man—I really am sick!"

It was getting hard to hear over the ringing in her ears as the blood rushed to her head and made her face feel as if it was slowly cementing into hard icing.

Turbo observed silently as she whined and wriggled and started coughing again. He knew what a fake cough was, and this one sounded genuine and hoarse; not to mention the way she was flickering every few seconds.

The child tried to play on his emotions (whatever he had) with large tears and quivering eyes. It would have been enough to make someone like Felix swoon in a heartbeat. "You wouldn't freeze a sick child, would you?"

"Oh, I would," the racer smirked. He let the pixie's ponytail barely skim the frigid waters before yanking her back up. "But not one that's linked to my code."

He dropped the pixie carelessly on her head (he didn't ever attempt to try and make sure she landed in a less painful position), and stood up in front of her.

"How did you manage to get sick? And why don't I feel anything?"

Code linking wasn't something that had much information on it, given how dangerous the practice was. Supposedly characters shared an entire body, which meant they should share any ailments, but nothing was certain. If Vanellope did have some sort of virus he may feel it eventually. Or not. This entire process was just so confusing.

"I don't know." The child was just as confused. Some of the redness in her face was draining as her blood receded back to where it was, but a bit of pinkness remained in her cheeks. Fever.

"I mean, you felt horrible back at the mountain when I almost got crushed. I guess 'cause my life was in danger?"

The racer shook his head, dizzy himself at even beginning to try to figure out this mess. "Well whatever. Just go to bed."

"But I'm hungry."

He held his arms out in front of him in a '_why me?_' pose, before turning around and glaring. He knew she would be unable to make her way to the kitchen by herself, especially since she was still re-cooperating from being held over the bathtub.

Without a second thought, he grabbed the young girl, and flipped her over his shoulder before practically stomping out of the room and towards the kitchen.

Vanellope gave a grunt as she hung there limply over his shoulder, her cheek pressed almost against his neck. Well, being taken care of by Turbo probably wasn't going to be as fun as it would be with Felix looking after her.

Felix was a comforting and cuddling teddy bear that often forgot she was too old to be rocked and babied. As for Turbo, well, he just threw her around like a sack of flour.

"Don't walk too roughly," she whined. "You might make me puke."

"Just make sure you don't puke _on me_." The yellow-eyed racer gripe, not relenting his fast-pace walking on her account. Eventually, after twists and turns, they made their way to the kitchen. He roughly sat her down on a chair. Finding one for himself, he sat down and crossed his arms, brooding a bit.

However, from the way he "plopped" on the edible chair, it broke, causing him to fall to the floor once again. After years of being in Sugar Rush, you'd think he'd remember the chairs breaking easily. He grumbled as he stood, and kicked the broken pieces.

The child blinked her brown eyes and immediately wheezed out a few little giggles. She rolled her eyes when he glared daggers at her, as if she had committed some sort of atrocity.

"Oh come on!" she croaked out through a laugh. "You can't break a chair and fall on your butt and expect people _not_ to laugh!"

Turbo still glared at the snarky president for a few seconds before glancing at the debris of the chair. He gave a wicked smirk before scooping up the broken pieces and dropping them on the table in front of the pixie. "There. Breakfast."

The child perched her chin in her hand and glanced down at the shards of debris with a smirk. She took a bite out of the candy cane leg and tossed the rest on top of his head. "There. Hairdo."

Turbo gave the girl a glare before grabbing a broken "shard" left behind from the chair. He then licked it, as to make it sticky, and stamped it on her forehead. "There. It now somehow makes you look less stupid, and yet more so at the same time." He crossed his arms.

The girl grimaced from the feeling of the cold and wet candy stamped to her forehead and peeled it off with a grimace. "Ew." She grabbed a lollipop, licked it, and then stuck it to his tiny nose.

"There! At least now you have a nose that's not practically invisible." She grinned cheekily.

The gray-skinned racer growled after pulling off the lollipop. He glanced around the kitchen until he found a weapon of mass sweetness. Suddenly a pie was thrown and landed right on Vanellope's face.

The child gasped as the cream pie fell off of her face with a wet _"shlop"_. Beady, chocolate slits of wrath targeted the racer through the layers of cream.

_Oh, it. Is. ON._

Her energy fueled by revenge, she grabbed a whipped cream bottle, forgetting her sickness for a moment as she tackled him down to the ground.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Turbo shouted as he was attacked by the little minx. Even though it was him against a sick little munchkin, he quite enjoyed this little game. After all, it was nearly the only thing remotely close to revenge without hurting himself in the process.

He continued to grab more pies and throw them on her until she was nearly completely covered in whipped cream and whatever other contents were in the pies and sweets.

The poor child looked like some sort of sweet, fluffy snowman. Hardly any part of a little girl could be seen through the mounds of cream. She barely managed to poke her eyes through the layers of white.

"Oh." The girl grinned, giving a cough and grabbing a bottle of maple syrup. "You're getting yourself in a sticky situation! Ha, looks like I'm the master of wordplay now!" She managed to drench his legs, which also, rather left him pinned against the floor in stickyness.

Turbo attempted to pry himself off of the floor, but as it would be, the syrup prevented him from doing so. Looking at the "snowman", the wheels in his twisted brain began to turn. Snatching the maple syrup, he returned the favor by giving her a maple shower.

He then seized a bag of sprinkles and mints from the counter and tossed them at her. "Have some candy!"

But as he said that (out of habit), he was brought back down to his perception of reality. Vanellope was still his enemy. And here he was _playing_ with her.

The shards of mint attached to her black locks, adding a different look to the normal candy sprinkles. "Cool, new accessories!" She grinned. She looked all Christmas-y.

She then stared down at the racer who was still pinned against the maple syrup. "Poor wittle Pajama Boy can't get up." He looked hilarious; like a fly caught in a very sticky, sticky web.

"This would be a great time to get back at you for everything when I was glitchy." She grinned at the way he glared at her; it was a cautious glare. "But I have a heart."

Another cheeky grin came to her face. "Or maybe I don't." She poked at his stomach and sides, tickling him. The best thing about a link was all the things you were able to get away with without consequences.

"They aren't pajamas, for the last time!"

"They are pajamas!" the child giggled. She scribbled her fingers faster in an effort to break the racer. Truly this was a kind and playful thing compared to many other ways she could get her vengeance on him; link or no link.

Turbo's chest swelled as he desperately held his breath against her playful belly probing. His body twitched and glitched beyond his control as he did. Oh if he wasn't bound to the floor by stickiness, that child would be-! A giggle threatening to break loose broke off those venomous thoughts.

Turbo caught onto the scheming little minx's plans and shut his mouth. He wasn't going to open his mouth, no matter what she called him. As it was, he couldn't hold on for long.

Just as she predicted, he couldn't keep in his laughter and began to squirm and struggle. "Vanellope! Stop!" He managed to yell in between gasps of laughter. "I'm not wearing pajamas!" he repeated.

"Pajamaaaas~!" the pixie sang. She would have continued the relentless tickling if not for a coughing fit that decided to give a painful reminder that she was sick and making it worse by rough housing.

Turbo took a few deep breaths once he was able to breathe again. He watched her with a blank expression as she continued her coughing fit. His relentless struggling had slowly pried himself from the sticky floor, and he stood on his feet.

Still coughing and in visible pain, the pixie still gave the racer a heart melting, and playful grin. "Ticklish, huh? I'll remember that. Maybe you should be more nice to me from now on." She was having a hard time getting up.

Turbo scowled as he stood on his feet. He hesitated ever-so slightly; perhaps contemplating whether he should have just left her suffer there, before lifting her up over his shoulder. He'd feed her later. "If the giant goon-brain or that psychotic female were to find you like this, who do you think they will blame?"

He reached over to the counter and grabbed a few towels for them to clean themselves with.

"Goon-brain," Vanellope giggled from over his shoulder. She noticed his hold was a little more gentle than it had been before. "Yeah, he is a goon-brain. Oh sure they'd blame you, but I'd be there to stick up for you."

She smiled, turning to try and look at him (hard in the position she was in). "But for what it's worth, I do appreciate you looking after me, even though I know you're only doing it because you have to." She coughed a little and then laid her cheek against his shoulder.

Finally reaching Vanellope's room, Turbo dropped the child on her bed. "Just get some rest," he snapped.

The girl winced as she was dropped quiet heavily against the mattress and sighed, crawling up to her pillow. He was glaring at her from the corner with a mixture of anger and boredom.

Just when she always seemed to be making headway with him, it was all for naught. Every fleeting glimmer of hope was always dashed; there was never a concrete hope that he'd ever change or that they'd ever maintain any kind of relationship.

The girl felt a sadness well up in her chest and only nodded with a mumbled "okay". She slipped under the covers, not realizing the tear that had also slipped down her mournful looking face.

Turbo had caught the tear though. Anger flared in his chest when he saw it, for he knew it had little to do with her illness.

What did she want from him? What did she honestly hope to get out of this harrowing experience? Did she think he'd grow a bleeding heart and apologize? What, did she want him to cuddle her up and rock her like that stupid handyman?! Fat chance.

* * *

For reasons unknown to him, Turbo had left the door open when he went to bed that night. It wasn't as if barring it with furniture would be for naught. From what he had seen, the pixie was too weak to use her powers to teleport, so barring it would have kept her out for sure.

And yet, Turbo kept the door wide open.

It was probably around ten when Turbo heard the static and saw the blue light beside his bed. He opened his eyes to glare at the little girl, but found his expression softening the slightest at her condition.

Vanellope didn't look very well at all. If this was a fleeting virus, it was certainly a vicious one. Her pink cheeks had darkened a few shades over the hours and her code was flickering uncontrollably. She gave another cough and rubbed at her hazy eyes with her fists.

It didn't cross Turbo's mind to tell the sick child to leave his room immediately. Perhaps that was because it wouldn't make sense to kick her out when he left the door wide open.

Vanellope hardly looked like the snarky little half-pint that Turbo knew. The mirthful sparkle in her eyes didn't seem to exist anymore, and she looked as if she had regressed by at least four years.

The normally proud, keep-to-herself child looked more vulnerable than Turbo thought she could. He could tell even in the dark room that she had been crying. There were dried tear tracks staining her flushed cheeks.

"Can I stay in here with you tonight?"

Her sickness had sparked the needing inside her that all children had, but most her age would be too proud to admit it. She gripped his blankets in between her closed fists and gazed up at him. Her owlish, chocolate eyes radiated with hope and pain.

"What?" Turbo asked sharply. His glowing eyes glared down at the child and he pulled his blanket out of her hands. "No."

There were multiple directions this could go, but more than anything Turbo expected the child to persist and whine, or to just crawl up without asking. He waited for either of these things to happen, but the frail little girl only continued to stare at him.

But the little pixie didn't persist in words as he thought she would. No, the child used something else she had at her disposal: tears.

Vanellope's face crumpled up in heart break as she stared up at him with owlish, and watery eyes. Tears rolled rapidly down her cheeks as her mouth set into a permanent little pout of sadness.

Turbo was content to let the pixie cry. It would have been the easier thing to do. She probably would have given up eventually, but the sniffles finally agitated him enough. He harshly yanked the girl up by the back of her collar and dropped her beside him.

Vanellope gave him a small grateful look and laid her head back against the marshmallow pillow. She seemed to inch closer to him, but the racer inched the other way, to the edge of the spongecake.

There were no sounds now other than the distant roar of cars and cheering, and the child's raspy breathing. Every so often Turbo felt the cake shift and shot Vanellope a warning glare to back away from him.

"Thank you for being there for me," the pixie mumbled softly into the cushion.

That tipped it off for Turbo. He roughly yanked the girl up to his face, and jerked her flopping head so her frightened eyes met his seething yellow ones.

"Who said I'm doing any of this for you?!" he spat harshly. Maybe he wanted to keep an eye on her because of their link, or maybe he just didn't want to hear her whine and weep in bed all night. Why this damn brat was so intent on believing there was goodness in him frustrated him more and more by the day.

The exhausted child was like a rag doll in his rough hold. Harsh coughs suddenly racked her entire body and she began to flicker and twitch from the aggressive treatment.

Slowly, the wild look in Turbo's eyes began to fade, and when it did, there was no hostility in his face; only turmoil. He slowly released his grip on her shirt. The munchkin fell loosely against his side and shut her eyes.

His face was still hard, but his gaze was elsewhere as his hands dropped down to the blankets. A moment passed, and a hand settled quietly on the child's head.

Time seemed to have stopped as she lay there against him, feeling his surprisingly gentle touch. It didn't radiate hatred with the desire to crush her head. No, it was almost remorseful; a silent apology for the way he had snarled at her.

Over these weeks, Vanellope had been in an internal conflict with herself. She was a child with a kind heart, but forgiveness didn't come without mixed feelings. Through each time she reached out to Turbo she wanted to scream at him as well.

It would have been the easier option to just leave the racer to die when she found him. He had been so weak and pitiful, and in such incredible pain. It would have been justice to kill him herself, but how could she?

He had done unspeakable things, but her entire life had been a battle with him. And it was a battle that had to end. Peace needed to be found.

The child gazed up at the silent racer through the fever haze. His hand was still on her head, gentle and quiet. Sure it wasn't a verbal apology, but it was a start.


	10. Important Author's Note

Sorry guys, it's just an author's note. c: I know, a lot of you probably pouted when you read that. ;p But I do have a treat at the end of the author's note. I have a few things to say here.

The first would be a huge thank you again for the insane support this fic has recieved. This fic is just like all my others, being how I set out to write something that's uaully a one shot and just for my enjoyment, and it somehow turns to this. I've gotten so much good reception, friends, fans, and even my own spot on the tropes.

c: Second will be that the next chapter is COMPLETELY written, but it is with an editor. That being said, chapter updates may take a few days longer than usual since I now have an editor.

And the third, most important thing is this fic now has a tumblr. Currently there's a few chapters there, some of my own art, and a link to the fic's theme song I've chosen. It's its only programmed . tumblr. com (WITHOUT THE SPACES). A lot of cool stuff will be uploaded there and I have an ask AND a submit box for people that want to post their own stuff. So go and follow it! C: I may eventually have an askcharacter blog for that fic.

Lastly, I thought I'd grace you all with a preview~

Don't worry, the next update will be the chapter. c: I hope you all have your tissues ready for the flashback.

* * *

_Turbo didn't say a word. The only sounds were the fading glitches, that he didn't even seem to feel as he stared silently at the wheel of his car. He blinked several times, but he never made a sound or looked up once._

_ Suddenly, Vanellope was hit with a wave of despair, and it wasn't her own. She could feel the pain and despair radiating from Turbo; so great, tears began to brim in her eyes._

_ "I can't race." He practically whispered it. His voice was quiet with the dawning, painful realization of reality. "I can't race." His voice seemed to crack slightly._

_ "Whoa, hey," Vanellope said gently when Turbo stared up at her with an utter look of despair. This was not the narcissistic racer that the child knew. For the first time, she saw true emotion on his face. True sadness._

_ He was like a spring without its bounce. He was a programmed racer that couldn't race. In just that moment, Turbo felt utterly destroyed and felt as if he had lost who he was._

_ Racing was his entire being. It was the thing that fueled his very being with life and a reason to continue surviving in this ever-changing, high-definition world._

_ "Hey come on, now," the munchkin said with a gentle and playful punch in his shoulder. "No need to cry—"_

_ "I'm not crying!" Turbo snarled, but it'd be a lie to say he didn't feel near tears at this point. "I just…I can't race! How can I not race? How can Turbo, the greatest racer ever, not be able to race? It…"_

_ He gave a broken snarl and slammed his foot against the pedal on the floor. Maybe it was her own, but Vanellope could have sworn she heard a stifled sniffle. _

_The pixie shifted close to the racer and sat on the hood of his mangled car. She placed a small, soft hand over the racer's pale hand. The hand shifted at the child's touch, but he didn't tear away from her._


	11. Chapter 9 - Breaking The Walls

_(And here is the first chapter for real~ I didn't think it'd be this soon. XD A thank you to my editor Mallory. We're getting up to the climax of the flashbacks, and where the flashbacks start to make an impact in the _present.

_And don't forget to follow its only programmed. tumblr . com!)_

* * *

_There wasn't a time increment in the world that could measure just how fast King Candy tore through Game Central Station and into Sugar Rush._

_How could he be so irresponsible? What kind of father was he, to leave his daughter with a stranger he had only met three weeks ago? Turbo had seemed so kind hearted and gentle. What if it had all been a ruse?_

Calm down_, the king told himself, repeating it like a mantra in his head. Sure maybe Turbo had been a villain in the past, but maybe he had come into this game looking for a fresh start. Yet, the more he thought that, the more he was reminded of all the times Turbo had been so interested in the vault to the codes, and how he always said he wanted to be in the top in the racers._

_The foolish King had always interpreted them as harmless, and now that he knew different..._

_"Sour Bill! Vanny!"_

_The king raced over to the frightened, and licorice-bound forms of his adviser and daughter. He hurriedly ripped the sweet ropes off the child and sour ball, and instantly found his sobbing daughter in his arms and tightly clinging to him._

_"Vanellope, my precious little darling. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"_

_"N-no," the child whimpered. She was shaking so terribly that it looked like he was trembling. Or maybe he was trembling. He wasn't sure at this point._

_"He just...he tied me up." She shivered at the memories that would forever haunt her. "He said it was a game, but the ropes were really tight and he didn't come back. He told me he'd always take care of me. B-but when he said it, it wasn't the way he usually says it..."_

_"Turbo is a bad guy, Vanellope," King Candy told his daughter, and felt his heart break at her expression._

_"But he can't be! I love him, and he can't be evil!"_

_The king choked on a sob and only held his daughter close to him, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Vanny, I need you to head along to bed now. Okay? Sour Bill will take you there."_

_The child sniffled and nodded as Sour Bill tenderly slipped his hand in the child's, an unusually soft emotion on his face._

_"You'll come back to tuck me in, right?" the pixie whispered, tears spilling from her chocolate eyes. "Like you always do?"_

_It felt like King Candy's entire being was crumbling as his child stared up at him with a look of fright that no little girl should ever have to endure. Especially his little girl._

_"Of course, baby," the king whispered hoarsely. He gripped his daughter's hands, for what would be the last time._

_"B-but how about we sing our rhyme now? Just in case you're asleep when I get back?" Tears rolled steadily down the king's face as he brushed the candy sprinkles from his daughter's hair._

_"I-I like you more than the stars and the moon..."_

_"I love you more than the sweetest cupcake," Vanellope hiccuped, "And ice cream, with a silver spoon..."_

_"And as long as we're together, this love will never stop..."_

_"No matter what we go through, we'll come through..."_

_"...Like a cherry on top," the two finished in a synchronized, mourning whisper._

_"I love you, Papa," Vanellope whispered, touching his face._

_"And I love you, my precious little sugar cookie," King Candy told her, rubbing his nose against hers and letting his tears drip onto her face. "Now go to bed..."_

_He released his grip on the child's hands, and as the two gazed at each other through their tears, they somehow knew it would be for the last time._

* * *

It was always warm in a castle with cotton candy ventilating the walls, but Turbo felt warmer than usual when he woke up. A dim, panicky feeling sparked in his chest at the possibility that he may have caught the brat's illness, but once he looked down he realized what had caused his high body temperature.

Sometime through the night the pixie had crawled up onto his chest. Not only that, but her arms were around him, snuggled into him as if he was her own personal teddy bear. Whether it had been an unconscious gesture or not didn't revolt Turbo any less.

The racer was set to shove the sleeping girl to the floor, but paused at remembering her condition. He was quiet for a moment, and then he lightly touched the sleeping girl's forehead with the back of his hand to check her fever.

Almost instantly, Vanellope's chocolate eyes fluttered and she shifted. She glanced up at Turbo's hand—which he drew back instantly.

"Um... How are you feeling?" the racer asked coolly.

The child rubbed at her bleary eyes and propped herself up on her elbows (which were digging painfully into the racer's neck). "I..." She licked her dry lips and gave a small smile. "I feel okay."

"Good," Turbo said. He promptly knocked the munchkin off the side of his bed. "Then get off."

Vanellope squealed as she slammed against the cookie-tiles, and shot the smug looking Turbo a glare. It was easier to see now, she noticed. The pain was gone, as well as the uncomfortable sunburn-like heat in her face.

The fact she was better didn't provide Turbo with any sense of security. The more he began to ponder it, the more the sickness made no sense. Certainly coded characters could come down with viruses, that were capable of corrupting and even entirely deleting their codes, but if the child had a virus why didn't it go through the _entire_ link?

Why hadn't _he_ gotten it?

"Hey, stop drifting off to La-La Land, Pajama Boy!" the pixie called to him, already slipping on her housecoat. "There's a lot of stuff I want to get done today."

The pale-skinned racer's gaze lingered on the suddenly energetic child a moment longer, before pushing all of his unsettling thoughts away completely, for the time being. If he was honest with himself, it was relieving to see the girl back to her lustrous and peppy stuff. A sick Vanellope was much harder to deal with than a healthy Vanellope.

Right as he turned to walk back to the probably-still-messy kitchen, he slammed heavily against what felt like a mother fudging _brick wall._

The racer crashed heavily onto his back with only his freakishly large helmet to slightly break the impact. His helmet made his head jerk violently against the tile and he lay there moaning. It would have been easier to just lay there and go to sleep the rest of the day, but the 'wall' that had caused his trip to the floor had other ideas and quickly pulled him up.

"Oh, sorry, buddy," Ralph apologized instantly. Both his and Turbo's eyebrows quirked awkwardly at the address. Since when were they buddies? "Are you alright? What were you doing?"

The dizzy racer scowled. He could hear the accusing edge in Ralph's voice, however much he tried to hide it. Why was it everything was an accusation?

"I was waking up," Turbo deadpanned.

"Oh."

"Good morning, Captain Underpants!"

"And good morning, President Booger Face."

He bopped fists with the little pixie and watched her scurry off into the kitchen.

"It's hard to believe she was sick last night," Turbo mused.

"What do you mean she was _sick? _Did you have it too?"

"No. That's what I'm trying to figure out, Wreck-it," Turbo answered quietly.

He gazed over at the little pixie, who was occupying herself with devouring the rest of his anniversary cake. You couldn't even tell this was the same child that was as red as a cherry, panting, and whimpering the other day.

"The only thing we can really do to investigate is to see if anything is wrong with the code. But if that were true, I would have felt something too."

The wrecker snorted dubiously. "And you really think that she'd be stupid enough to let you near the codes?"

The racer deflated and glared at the ground in frustration. After a second, the proverbial light bulb went off and he smirked. "Yes, Wrecker, I do."

* * *

The labyrinth was bigger and more elaborate than the bewildered racer remembered. Perhaps it was because it had been a while since he had visited the vast maze of programs, but there seemed to be more there than before.

"I can't believe we're finally gonna be doing this!" Vanellope's voice could scarcely hide her giddiness. She bounced exuberantly, making it impossible for Turbo to tie the licorice noose around her waist. He finally gave her a kick and she stopped jumping.

"What made you want to do something with me?" The over-excitement was gone, her chocolate eyes instead radiating with appreciation and happiness.

"I don't want to do anything with you," Turbo snapped harshly. The munchkin seemed to droop despondently and avert her eyes. "I was just going stir crazy in that castle. So I figured we'd try to make that bonus track you wanted."

Well, he didn't voluntarily want to do anything with her, but it was a start.

The two carefully descended into the dark vault, where their gravity was immediately eliminated. Glowing, blue electricity could be seen pulsating through each wire like the flow of blood through veins. In a sense, that was true. The electricity—the blood-kept the wires—the veins, alive.

"So what's our objective in all this, Munchkin?"

The pixie turned to him. "That's a new name. A lot better than 'Glitch' though."

"It suits you," Turbo taunted. "Shorty."

The child scowled at him and approached the wires connecting to the code of Diet Cola Mountain. The code remained, even if the actual land structure was nothing but a pile of crumbs.

Curiously, Vanellope tapped on the holographic screen of the code, and instantly a bunch of options were displayed. Most of the code contained letters and numbers her young mindset couldn't comprehend.

"Hey, Pajama Boy, maybe you can help me figure out this brain confuser. This thing has more numbers than the entire numerical counter!"

Keeping his eyes peeled for the link, Turbo hovered over to the girl's side, eyes roving over the codes. "Programming is a tricky thing, Munchkin, and not something a dim-witted kid like yourself would be able to figure out."

Vanellope's lower lip jutted out in a pout, but she shrugged and smiled. "I suppose I should let you worry about the coding then. After all, you did manage to create an entire character somehow." She tilted her head. "How _did_ you create King Candy?"

The racer froze, a worried look flashing in those normally confident eyes. "Um...I..."

"Oh look, it's our link!"

Thank all that was good and sweet. Turbo exhaled in relief and dove in after the girl. He couldn't even believe his eye hadn't caught this thing before! Vanellope's code was huge, right in the middle, where King Candy's code used to be.

The racer stared at the mixture of linked wires. Even without looking at what was connected to what, he could tell which wires were his and which were the pixie's. A set of wires pulsated with electricity at half the pace a normal wire did. Several of them seemed charred and weaker too.

Turbo gently grazed the wires with the tip of his fingers and shook his head. Vanellope had been right. If she hadn't linked their wires, he would have died. There wasn't enough life left in his wires to keep him alive. She _had _saved his life.

Other than the sputtering, sparking wires of his, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with their link. Vanellope's wires were flowing normally at full strength, and there were no hints of any malware of viruses. There was no explanation for Vanellope's sporadic illness.

He was right back to square one.

* * *

The two stood back at the entrance of the bakery. Vanellope had just pieced together her car. Admittedly, it wasn't as creative as her last car had been, but she loved it none-the-less.

The hood of the car was a pop tart with a dollop of pink icing, and rainbow sprinkles. Her pedals were now oreos, as were her wheels. The back of her car was now a cirrcular waffle.

"Nothing will ever beat my old set of wheels, but it'll do."

"Are we really going driving today?" Turbo didn't even care if his voice reflected that of an excited five year old. He didn't even care if his feet got away from him and he ended up skipping. He was finally going to drive again today!

"We are," the child confirmed, having to giggle at how the normally stoic and cold racer seemed like a giddy kid on Christmas. "First you need to make a car. I'll help you if you need it."

Immediately, Turbo shoved her back, causing the child to go crashing back into the seat of her new go-kart. "As if I need your help!"

At the press of the button, the villain rushed over to the Yum Or Yuck stage, grabbing the steering wheel and directing the flow of ingredients. Unlike Vanellope, he didn't need the help of some nine-foot-tall, halitosis-ridden ape with giant fists. Milk, butter, eggs, sugar- all of it went into the bowl.

_Complete. Initiate blending._

"Turbo-tastic!" He grinned, running over to the next mini game.

"You really need a new catchphrase!"

"There's nothing wrong with my catchphrase, you overgrown chipmunk!"

The child scowled and trudged behind him. What a show off, even when he was baking. Well, technically he hadn't shown off so much as showing her up. Not everyone could reach those dumb levers...

"Great! Now a sugar-load of frosting!"

"Ugh, frosting." Still, the racer took hold of the pellet gun, aiming for the targets. Though his accuracy was unparalleled on the racetrack, it didn't show up very well on this section. He bopped a few of the targets, but many of them overshot and bounced back for his head, making him dive out of the way. "ACK!"

The munchkin was on her back in hiccuping and laughing hysterics. "Wow, you're a racer but you're not so good with aiming a gun, are you buddy!"

He shot her a look, only to smile as the last, unseen ball sailed through the air and bopped her on the head. "And I guess you aren't that- TURBOTASTIC! - at ducking!" he teased.

The child whined and rubbed the pink spot the ball had left. She narrowed her eyes playfully at the racer and suddenly, a stream of red icing was squirted in Turbo's face.

"Neither are you," Vanellope teased back.

Spitting out the nauseatingly sweet glaze, Turbo smeared a hand over his reddened face in annoyance. If he could get back to that gun, he'd show her a thing or two about target practice (preferably in her face)-

_Frosting Complete._

"Ah!" He forgot about the game! He leaped up and watched as the cart entered the oven, hoping that he chose the right cart. If it turned out anything like Vanellope's wreck, he'd have to start all over.

"Okay, you gotta pump it to the right temperature!" Vanellope had to giggle when she realized Turbo was having difficulties keeping the pump down. They almost matched each other in strength. After all, in their tug-of-war-death-battle back on the track, Vanellope had managed to keep a hold of his cane easily.

"Need some help, Pajama Boy?"

"No!" he snapped, dangling from the air pump as his legs kicked and arms strained to push the bar down. He glanced over at the thermometer, grunting as it barely moved. The seconds were ticking away...

"Hurry up and stand on the lever, Pixie Stickbrain!" he finally barked, looking at her as he struggled to pull down.

The child flashed him a smug smirk. "Don't need my help...right, you overgrown-OW!" She squeaked as he roughly kicked her in the rear. "I'm going, I'm going!" She took a flying leap and landed on the lever, instantly pushing it down to the right temperature.

"Yes, there!" Turbo looked eagerly at the timer; only five seconds remaining. He hoped it was enough.

_Baking complete._

"TUR-BO-TASTIC!" He dropped off the bar, letting the smaller racer fly off and land in a pile of frosting before he ran over to the presentation stage to see how his vehicle turned out.

Vanellope furiously wiped the whipped cream and strawberries from her eyes and stormed over to the racer. She gave him a shove for good measure, and accidentally caused him to go tumbling back through the reveal curtain.

"Whoa!" There was only a yelp and a muffled rustle of feet as Turbo vanished through the curtains. It was quiet for a few moments, no announcements declaring the model fit to race or even a bell of failure.

Vanellope blinked, leaning in cautiously. "... Turbo?"

A loud screech of taffy wheels squealed as a white blur shot out, a grinning Turbo latched onto to his new cart. Hysterical laughter as sparkles flew from the candy cane pipes, the butterscotch headlights gleaming as brightly as his eyes, zooming around the factory.

"Turbotastic! Turbotastic!" The cart spun around in a circle, the villain too gleeful to hide it.

The pixie hopped back in surprise and could only blink blankly as he tore around the room like a happy, giddy child...on pixie sticks.

Finally, a wide grin drew up Vanellope's face and she eagerly pounced into her own car and joined him in his joy run. "Yeeehaw!"

"WHOO!" Turbo laughed, program racing as he was behind the wheel once again. Oh, it had been ages!

"Wow!" Vanellope was leaning over the lollipop steering wheel of her own new car, side by side with the racer and laughing at his enthusiasm. "I guess you've really missed racing, huh."

Turbo's laughter ceased abruptly as he turned to the pixie. He flashed her a cold glare and rammed his foot against the gas pedal, speeding off in front of her.

Their code was stronger now, which allowed him to go a further distance away from the child, and as long as he could he'd stay as far away as he could. He could hear Vanellope shouting from the distance, but he ignored her.

The only thing he wanted more than to be free from the munchkin was to get behind the wheel, and no one was interfering with the first taste of the closest he was able to get to freedom.

Vanellope's screams were becoming more desperate, and the agitated racer slammed harder against the gas to drown her out with the engines. The saccharated land of sugar whizzed by in a blur of mixed colors. Red and orange and yellow, and...

_KCHKKCHK!_

And a painful, dreadfully familiar cobalt blue.

Turbo cried out in agony and gripped his head as the static assaulted his vision. Pins and needles pricked his face and his very code, the static growing louder and harder to deal with.

Trapped in the glitching, blue nightmare, Turbo could feel the car swerving rapidly and viciously back and forth, and struggled to see where he was going. It was hard to tell over the sound of corrupted pixels, but it sounded like the child's yelling was closer.

The dots and static in his vision faded, allowing the racer just enough time to see the edge of a steep cliff to a would-be fatal fall, if not for the child that suddenly rammed her car in front of his.

Turbo could hear the splinters of candy parts flying off both cars at the impact, and saw a life-saver wheel go rolling down the side of the cliff. Both the front of his car and the side of the pixie's car was completely totaled. You couldn't even tell the mangled parts used to belong to a car.

"Well, back to the bakery drawing board," Vanellope muttered as she looked down at her broken vehicle. Then a smile lit up her features. "Of course, Felix could fix both of these in a heart beat, what am I talking about!"

Turbo didn't say a word. The only sounds were the fading glitches, that he didn't even seem to feel as he stared silently at the wheel of his car. He blinked several times, but he never made a sound or looked up once.

Suddenly, Vanellope was hit with a wave of despair, and it wasn't her own. She could feel the pain and despair radiating from Turbo; so great, tears began to brim in her eyes.

"I can't race." He practically whispered it. His voice was quiet with the dawning, painful realization of reality. "I can't race." His voice seemed to crack slightly.

"Whoa, hey," Vanellope said gently when Turbo stared up at her with an utter look of despair. This was not the narcissistic racer that the child knew. For the first time, she saw true emotion on his face. True sadness.

He was like a spring without its bounce. He was a programmed racer that couldn't race. In just that moment, Turbo felt utterly destroyed and felt as if he had lost who he was.

Racing was his entire being. It was the thing that fueled his very being with life and a reason to continue surviving in this ever-changing, high-definition world.

"Hey come on, now," the munchkin said with a gentle and playful punch in his shoulder. "No need to cry-"

"I'm not crying!" Turbo snarled, but it'd be a lie to say he didn't feel near tears at this point. "I just...I can't race! How can I not race? How can _Turbo_, the greatest racer ever, not be able to race? It..."

He gave a broken snarl and slammed his foot against the pedal on the floor. Maybe it was her own, but Vanellope could have sworn she heard a stifled sniffle.

The pixie shifted close to the racer and sat on the hood of his mangled car. She placed a small, soft hand over the racer's pale hand. The hand shifted at the child's touch, but he didn't tear away from her.

"Look, you may not be able to race now, but you'll be able to eventually. I promise." Her visage was serious, much too serious for a nine year old. Her eyes were gentle and kind.

"I didn't think I'd be able to race with a glitch, but I got it all under control. I can teach you to do the same."

Turbo's fingers twitched, the moment of humanity fading as he ripped his hand out of the girl's grip and bared his hateful, yellow teeth at her.

"I'm not supposed to have a glitch! I am _Turbo_, the greatest racer ever! And I'm not supposed to be under the guidance of a little jelly-tot smaller than me! And I'm especially not supposed to be taught anything by _you!_ I know how to race!"

His voice had become harsher, and his glare deepened with more hate every moment. "I know how to race, and I always will! Racing is..."

"...In your code," the pixie finished quietly.

The air fell silent between the two, but it was a different kind of silence than usual. It was mournful and quiet, and with the air of a mutual understanding.

"Believe me," Vanellope said softly. "I know exactly what you're talking about."

* * *

Mournful, golden eyes watched the racers as they sped down the candy-coated tracks, laughing and taunting each other as each competitive kid tried to reach the lead, and win the cup at the end of the race.

The cup... Certainly its graphics were more high-definition, but it would never be better than the trophy in _Turbo Time_. The trophy he always won, minus the few rare instances where one of the twins would be standing on the first place pedestal instead.

The twins... Where did characters go when they died? Was there a cyber heaven for all programmed, living creatures? If there was, the twins better be there.

Actually, thinking again, it'd be best if there wasn't a game equivalent for the after life, because Turbo was pretty certain he knew where he'd go...

"Pajama Boy."

The tired racer exhaled a deep sigh. "Just leave me alone, Pixie." He found he was too exhausted and upset from the days' events to project the usual venom into his voice.

"I will, I will." The child stepped forward, her hands behind her back. "In just a second."

The racer peeled his yellow eyes away from the road to glare down at the girl.

"Kneel down."

"What?!"

The child sighed angrily and kept her arms behind her back. "Oh, just do it!"

Turbo's scowl deepened, but he knew it'd be easier to just do what the pixie said, rather than argue with her. Begrudgingly, he complied, and was now right at level with the child. "Why do I have to kneel down?"

"Because..." Vanellope slid something out from behind her back. "This was too heavy for me to hold up that high. I know we won't be racing on the track for real for a while, so I made you this."

Turbo stared as she pushed something into his hands. It was heavy, enough that he needed to hoist it up with two hands.

It was a cup, a trophy, crafted out of dark chocolate. It was terribly deformed and the opening to it was sideways, but Turbo knew a trophy when he saw it. Squirted in white icing were the words _#1 Racer._

"You're right, Turbo," Vanellope said softly, and seriously. "You are a fantastic racer. But there's more to being the _best_ racer than just knowing more tricks and being better than everyone else on the track."

Without another word, the child scampered off, leaving the silent Turbo on the balcony tenderly holding the homemade trophy.


	12. Chapter 10 - What Was Once Forgotten

_(And here we are at the next chapter. It probably would have been done a day ago, had it not been for me getting so distracted on my new 'ask' blog I made for Vanellope and Turbo. Go ask them some questions! They love talking to their fans. ask pajama boy and pixie . tumblr. com (without the spaces)._

_Credits and thanks go to my friend Mallory and Gianna for edits and ideas.)_

* * *

_"Your Majesty, my apologies, but I'm afraid I'll be a little late for our evening tea party. I have some business to attend to."_

_The monarch was silent, save for the scraping sound his sword made as it was sheathed. The candy cane stripes glinted in the dark as the king stood at the entrance to the open vault._

_Undaunted, Turbo whisked out an equally sharp, striped dagger from his own pocket, and gave it a confident twirl. "You really shouldn't be so trusting to show a complete stranger everything in your castle, including the weapon's closet. Your soft heart will be your downfall, Candy."_

_The king's eyes had hardened completely, glinting with a level of viciousness never before seen on the always-jolly face. "And your black heart will be yours."_

_Seeing Turbo had taken the only life-line to get out of the vault, King Candy dove in without his usual rope, hovering towards the racer with the sword pointed threateningly._

_"Corrupt all the codes you want, but when you harm my daughter is where I draw the line."_

_"I've done nothing to the pixie," Turbo said nonchalantly. _"Yet."

_A growl tore from the king's throat as he stabbed the blade toward the racer. Turbo drew his knees up to his chin and veered to the side, away from the sharp tip._

_He counter-attacked the king's sword with a blow of his own. The striped metal clanged as they struggled to overpower the other, both competitors fighting to keep themselves in the middle of the vault so they wouldn't get tangled in the wires._

_"Skilled with a sword, I see," Turbo lamented as he blocked an attack toward his stomach._

_King Candy gave a mirthless laugh. "Of course, I'm royalty! Vanellope knows a thing or two about blades as well!"_

_The heated battle continued on, seemingly endlessly as snarls and clashing metal echoed through the vast chamber of the labyrinth._

_Turbo made a clever jerk of his blade toward Vanellope's code, which distracted the king long enough for the racer to stab the sword straight into his abdomen._

_The king opened his mouth in a soundless scream as his coding sparked and hissed, trying to regenerate itself. King Candy warbled out a cry of pain as Turbo gripped and twisted at the wires connecting to his code._

_Immobilized__, with nothing else to do, King Candy desperately tried to reach out to the deranged racer._

_"Turbo...please... You don't have to do this! You can be part of the game, I already told you! We can...we can create an avatar for you with the avatar creator, and you can...you can be a Sugar Rush racer!"_

_"Not good enough," the racer hissed. He twisted the wires more, which caused the King to double over in agony. "I want what I had in Turbo Time. I want to be the lead character again!"_

_"But what about Vanellope?" the monarch pleaded, gritting his teeth as his entire code flickered a spectrum of dying colors. "She loves you...she even told me herself! And I know you've been...l...lonely, since you lost your game. You can...you can be a part of our family!"_

_"I don't need her love," was the cold, emotionless reply. He began plucking wires, until the king was reduced to nothing but a pile of dying pixels barely resembling a character at all._

_"But...everyone does... Everyone needs love..." The king's voice had begun to slur in the mess of pixels, his eyes shutting. "Even you..."_

_Turbo floated over and jerked King Candy up to his face._

_His body scattered into minuscule codes, the sad and pleading brown of the King's fading eyes focused on him._

_"Promise me...you won't do this to my daughter. Promise...m...me...that you won't kill her." His eyes shut and then opened again, weakly. "Promise me...for all I've done for you..."_

_A moment passed as the deranged racer kept his grip on the dying king. His expression wasn't readable, but there was a flicker of something resembling humanity and mercy._

_"Fine."_

_Sugar Rush's beloved king disappeared entirely into tiny pieces of coding. They engulfed the racer in them, until he couldn't be seen._

_When the cobalt lights faded, Turbo stood there in the avatar of King Candy. He stared up at the large, neon pink code that was now his. His eyes drifted over to Vanellope's._

_Turbo dove down to the princess's wires and began tearing at them, until only a few remained, alive and functioning. He shoved the corrupted code over to the side and loomed over the code containing the memories of the citizens._

_A large, foreboding chest used for unlockables snapped shut over the codes, as Sugar Rush began to ripple and change._

_When all was said and done, no one would have any memory of the events up until Vanellope's code corrupting._

_Sugar Rush would never know of the deceased, true ruler of their game._

* * *

"Alright, Pajama Boy. We're here! Marshmallow Meadows, the ideal place for first time dr-" Vanellope paused at seeing the irked look in the golden eyes. "Ah, _readjusting_ drivers," the girl immediately amended.

"Marshmallow _Meadows?" _He glowered at the very thought. That puffy, plush park was for pansies. "Why couldn't you pick a place more masculine?"

"Its masculine enough for a dude in white pajamas and little red booties. Besides! Felix and Tammy wanted to come here, cause it's the perfect place for a picnic!"

"And a nursery," Turbo muttered under his breath.

It was clear the others didn't share his disdain for this marshy-gooey nightmare, as shown by the way they instantly fawned over the marshmallow bunnies and baby, sugar coated chicks. The fact he had to take lessons here, from Vanellope was bad enough, but to spend time with the rest of her chums? Well, that was just icing on the cake.

"Ralph, you guys can set up your picnic stuff over by the Strawberry Daiquiri Swamp. Oh, but careful you don't fall into it. It's rather..._intoxicating._"

The wrecker rolled his eyes at the bad pun, and flicked the blanket up next to the alcoholic marsh. Felix and Calhoun quickly followed suit.

"They have _that_ in a children's game?" Felix asked, eyeing the goopy marsh with a look of concern. "Golly."

"Well, it's probably a myth," Vanellope assured. "But you might want to be careful, cause I don't think we want to test whether it is or not. They say if you fall in you'll get super drunk."

She pushed both karts up to the mini marshmallow starting line, and hopped in hers.

"Alright Pajama Boy, let's get this show on the road! Into your car and start up the engine. Today in our lessons, I'll teach you how to control episodes."

Well, she certainly didn't need to ask twice on that! Turbo was in his car within moments. His racing intuitions had his foot slam down on the gas pedal, but Vanellope kicked it away and gave him a mother-scolding glare.

"Nuh-uh. No revving it up and going super fast, buddy!" Like a sneaky five year old trying to steal a cookie, his boot kept straying to the pedal, but it was repetitively kicked away.

"We're going to do this safely and slowly," the pixie told him. The normally narcissistic racer pouted like a brat and threw himself dramatically against the back of his seat.

"I don't need to go slow!" he all but whined. "Just teach me how to get in control of this glitch and I'm good to go. Honestly, Pixie, I-" He was cut off as the bold little minx grabbed his cheek in between her finger and thumb, and gave it a little shake.

"Ah, patience is a virtue, my Pajama-chum," the child purred playfully. Before the racer could inevitably snap her hand off in his teeth, she bounded into her own car and started up the engine.

He was going soft on the unbearable brat, and that wasn't a good sign. He hadn't just tried to break her arm, he hadn't threatened her all morning, or said he hated her in at least a day! Damn, sugar-soaked little munchkin turning him into a marshmallow...

Sighing, Turbo started up his engines and rested his cheek against his hand in boredom. A day of racing as slow as molasses was bad enough, but the fact it was in the toddler-racing park just made things even worse.

"One of the easy ways I find to control a glitch is just to imagine that it's all in your head," the child advised, as they gently scrolled over the butterscotch road. "Like-like you just watched a scary movie! And you keep thinking there's ghosts in your room and monsters under your bed."

Turbo rolled his eyes. It was times like this that he was reminded just how young his captor was. "Munchkin, I'm not six."

"Well, you get what I'm talking about. Just think that the glitches are all things you're imagining, and if you don't think about them, they won't bother you. That way you aren't expecting a glitch and they won't happen as often."

"Alright, alright, can we try it out now?" Turbo's normally hard, yellow eyes danced with eagerness and excitement, like a child on a playground. In a sense, that was true; racetracks were his playground.

"Fine," Vanellope laughed. "If you feel a glitch and crash, don't worry, 'cause that's why we came to Marshmallow Meadows. The only dangers here are smooshy marshmallows and cuddly, adorable, and tickly little marshmallow animals!"

A shudder rippled through the racer as he was reminded of the nauseatingly cute little marshmallow bunnies and chicks. As King Candy, he naturally had raced in every inch of the land, but steered clear of this particular area after a giant, marshmallow teddy bear had chased him when his kart broke, trying to give him a hug of death.

"Ah, memories." Memories of frighteningly, adorable little sacharated animals with icing-drop eyes and terrible urges to hug and kiss everyone they saw.

"Alright, on your mark, get set..." A roar of an engine sounded as Turbo's car whipped by and nearly took off the pixie's hair. She blinked and watched stupidly as his car disappeared down the cream path, leaving her to choke on candy dust.

"Dude, wait for me!" Clumsily, Vanellope rammed her foot down on the gas and bolted after him. The racer gave her a bored, and fleeting glance before putting his focus back on the road. Vanellope scowled and increased the speed of her own kart, staying parallel with his.

"You aren't supposed to get ahead of the teacher!"

"_Teacher,"_ the pale racer sneered. He shuddered. "The humiliating truth." A flicker of cobalt blue rippled his code, and he shot the pixie a look of desperation.

Vanellope was surprised by the flash of fear in his eyes, and visible disappointment. She didn't know if the great and fantastic Turbo would ever get used to having a glitch flawing his programming.

"It's okay, Pajama Boy. Just tell yourself you're imagining it and you'll be in better control."

The racer's panicked eyes filled with determination as his calloused hands gripped the steering wheel. His yellow teeth ground together as he jerked his drifting car back into the middle of the track.

A glitch-free, and silent moment passed (save for the sounds of candy engines), and Turbo kept up the steady cruise without interruption. He flashed the munchkin a genuine grin, which she returned—and then his body resumed its sporadic twitching.

"Easy Turbo, don't freak out—no, _don't_ freak out!"

Easy for her to say! Her very code encryption wasn't being riddled with agony. He couldn't stand these glitches! He gripped his head, ignoring the child's attempts to calm him down as he panicked and the car swerved.

A screech echoed through the air, startling the picnicking trio not even a mile away. The screech was quickly followed by a bouncy thud, and the three looked at each other.

"Sounds like President Fart Feathers' little student just crashed into the toasted marshmallow trees," Ralph snorted. Calhoun reflected his amusement, but Felix only clicked his tongue.

"Jimminy jamminy, I sure hope Turbo gets his glitch under control. That can't be fun to deal with."

Ralph didn't share the handyman's sentiments. A cool look glazing his brown eyes, he merely brought Vanellope's flower tea cup to his lips, ignoring the titters from around him (it was the only set she had!).

"Honestly, Felix, I think Turbo deserves to feel a little of what he put the kid through all her life. I don't feel very bad for him. Besides, Vanellope is an excellent teacher. He'll have that glitch under control in no time."

"You're a terrible teacher!" an angry screech came from the entrance of the forest, as a beaten up and frothy looking Turbo and an annoyed Vanellope made their way back to the picnic blanket.

The munchkin glowered, her hand flying to her hips. "I am NOT a terrible teacher! It's not easy to get control of a glitch! Okay? And I told you not to freak out, but you still did! It's your fault you went flying into the mounds of whipped cream!"

The racer only stamped his red boot against the ground in a tantrum-like fashion, shouting at the top of his lungs. "I'm not supposed to HAVE a glitch!"

The child merely stood there silently, observing the immature display as he raged on and stamped in fury. Finally, she shook her head and continued walking.

"You're a brat."

He gaped. "Excuse me?!"

"You heard me," the pixie replied, smirking at the indignation and shock on the narcissist's face. "A brat! You can't get what you want and you have a tantrum!"

Turbo flared with rage and gave the girl a furious shove. She went crashing back into a pond of thick, strawberry cream, flailing her arms.

Gasping and sputtering, the child rose to the surface and wiped the cream out of her eyes to stare up at the racer. He stood there, at the edge of the bank with his hands in his pockets, and a far too satisfied and amused smirk on his face.

Her chocolate eyes narrowed into beady slits of wrath. "Oh, it is on."

He snorted, oblivious to the hand shooting out and towards his foot. "What is—AUGH!"

A loud, gloopy splash was heard as the pale skinned racer was yanked into the freezing, thick beverage. From then on, all the group at the blanket could see was two, cream covered forms grappling, splashing, and grabbing at each other as insults were hurled back and forth.

"What a couple of kids," Calhoun snorted, but damn if the sight wasn't a little endearing.

"I got twenty dollars on the kid," Ralph piped up, munching on a gingerbread cookie.

"I don't know, thirty says the phantom boy wins it." Both shook on it as the gooey little racers finally made their way back to the group. Judging by the various scratches, bruises, and ripped outfits, their 'bonding' had been a success.

Turbo scrubbed the cream from his eyes and sat beside Ralph on the edge of the checkered blanket.

"Hey, Wreck-it." He looked at the flowery teacup. "Manly."

"It was the only one she had! And that's coming from a guy covered head to toe in tooti-fruity cream...with a bunny at his side."

"A what?" the pale-skinned racer whirled around, his eyes falling on a small, pink form with plush, edible ears. "What the? Where'd you come from?"

The saccharine little fluffball tilted its pink head and gazed up with two, sprinkle eyeballs. It crept curiously up to the racer and sniffed at his boots.

"Marshmallow Meadows, home of all the cutest, edible little animals," Vanellope giggled. She watched as the plush little creature began pawing at Turbo's boot. "Aww, it likes you."

"Yech." He nudged it away, face crinkled in displeasure.

The bunny seemed to give a whine-and then it bit the racer. Vanellope only fell back howling as he yelped and tried shaking the beast off.

A loud explosion of garbled curses sounded as his foot jerked and tried to get the vicious rabbit off. "HEY! Let go! Or I swear, you'll be finding out a new way to eat carrots, bucky!"

"Oh my land," Felix mumbled. His cheeks went red with repressed laughter as he held his hand up to his face. The others made no such attempt to hide their amusement as they bent over in laughing hysterics.

Recovered from her giggle fit, the child had enough kindness to gently pry the marshy bunny off the distressed racer's boot. Immediately, Turbo dusted and rubbed the sugary saliva off his precious racing boots; all the while muttering how he would one day annihilate all sugar bunnies.

"You know, the castle could use a pet." She smirked and pet the bunny's plush, marshmallow skin. "Especially one that could put you in your place."

"Nope! Nuh-uh!" Turbo leaped to his feet, scuttling away a safe distance from the fluffy menace. "No pets! I have enough trouble taking care of YOU."

"Hey now!" Vanellope gasped. "I take care of you! Well..." She smiled. "We take care of each other!

"Oh sure," Turbo lamented. "If you count the way you scared my _program_ off me this morning by shaking my bed and yelling 'EARTHQUAKE!' your form of taking care."

The cheeky child only grinned, and in an effort to totally humiliate and disgust him, placed a big smooch on his forehead. "Oh no, those wake up calls are just out of looove."

It had the desired effect, the racer's hand furiously scrubbing at the invisible mark. "EW! What is the matter with you?!"

Vanellope ignored the acid glare and only rubbed the fluffy, strawberry flavored animal under the chin. "I'm gonna name her Marsha!"

"Oh, no," Turbo growled, looking between the candied imp and the fuzzy, frosting-covered fiend. "We're not taking that thing with us unless we're gonna make smores. I don't even want to think about what might happen with two little idiots running around the castle."

"I'm NOT an idiot!" the munchkin growled at him, losing her patience with the racer. "You know what?" She abruptly yanked Turbo toward her and unzipped his jumpsuit enough to shove the bunny inside.

"AUUUUGH-!" The sound of angry, hysterical curses and happy squeaks was all that was heard seconds later. "_**PIXIE!"**_

Ralph and Felix exchanged nervous glances at the look of white-hot fury on the racer as he struggled to get the fluffy bunny out of his uniform. Vanellope was always treading on thin ice with him, and she took advantage of this link too much. One day it wouldn't be there, and she could be in trouble.

The enraged racer caught up to the screaming kid within moments, and what the group suspected would turn into an ugly scene stayed surprisingly calm. He tucked the shrieking Vanellope under his arm and wordlessly targeted a candy tree.

"Turbo, put me down!" the munchkin squealed. "What the fudge?!"

"Hey!" Calhoun shouted, pointing a finger at the hapless child. "Language, young lady! I don't care if you're hanging a hundred feet off a cliff—you will not use that word!"

"Cliff, no. Tree, however," the racer muttered to himself as he started effortlessly scaling the candy tree. He avoided each double strike with ease and finally stopped on a branch at a considerable height from the ground.

Vanellope stared, her chocolate eyes bulging in horror as Turbo grabbed the back of her shirt and tied a knot around the branch with it, leaving her to dangle like a pinata.

The cruel racer leaned back against the branch, amused as the child squealed and kicked and dangled there, covering her eyes in fright.

"Oh my land!" Felix cried, his hands flying to his heart in a panic at the sight.

"Turbo, what are you doing?!" Ralph exclaimed. "She's gonna fall!"

"Oh wouldn't that be amusing," the racer muttered to himself, hopping merrily down to a lower branch. The wild little minx above thrashed and hissed and screamed at him.

"Turbo, you get the fudge up here right now and get me down!"

"Oho, language, little one," the racer laughed meanly, leaning against a branch and smirking at the girl. "Don't want Mama Calhoun to come and wash your mouth out with soap. I'd prefer to do it with poison."

He watched with amusement as the child attempted to untie herself, but that amusement faded when she managed to undo the knot. "Pixie! What are you doing?!" The damn kid was going to get herself hurt!

The knot came loose, and so did the child, beginning to fall at least fifteen feet.

"Vanellope!"

The fall was not fatal. At most she'd probably sprain something, or perhaps get a fracture. Even then, she'd only be injured for a second since Mr. Fix-Everything was only a few feet away. Turbo had no idea what was going through his head when he leaped off the branch and dove for the child.

Holding Vanellope in a half-cradled position, at arms length, Turbo's body slammed against the ground, his form immediately hissing with static as his code began to spasm.

Uninjured and dazed, Vanellope stared silently down at the sore racer as the glitch riddled his body once more. She was still in a state of shock when Felix lifted her off of the racer and into his arms to check her for injury.

"You have got to be the stupidest kid I know!" Turbo wheezed out, his voice sounding lower and underwater as a glitch corrupted it. "What did you think you were doing, untying yourself to DROP fifteen feet? I was going to take you down!"

Finding her voice and her anger, Vanellope glared back. "I didn't know that! I thought you were trying to get rid of me again!"

"Not as long as we're bound to each other!" His furious retort tapered off with a wince as the pins and needles stabbed his face from the glitch.

"Easy there, neighbour," Felix said gently, spying evident injuries on the racer. "I can fix it."

His golden hammer tapped the injured appendages on the racer, which healed instantly. Despite the absence of physical wounds, Turbo's form continued to glitch and flicker sporadically.

* * *

Every one of Turbo's muscles had stiffened completely, his entire body twitching with pain as he sunk into his sponge bed. At least the glitches had finally stopped.

"Pixie, get your stupid vermin off my chest." That thing freaked him the fudge out with those unblinking, candy eyes just staring right into his soul.

There was the sound of water dripping, and then a damp cloth was tossed up onto the racer's forehead.

"It's hard to reach your head with that helmet on."

Turbo felt his helmet jostle and his hands shot out, furiously and tightly gripping the girl's hands and throwing them off him. "Leave my helmet alone!"

Taken aback, Vanellope drew her hands back to her sides immediately. She scoffed at his glare. "Geez, okay, relax! I won't take your helmet off." She tilted her head curiously at it. "What color hair do you have?"

The child could have sworn her eyes were playing tricks on her, because the racer's pale cheeks seemed to become slightly pink.

"Uh..."

"...Do you even _have_ hair?"

"..."

The pixie's eyes went as wide as dinner plates as her fingers flew to her mouth. She spoke through the cracks of them. "Ohmygosh, you don't have hair."

Turbo growled and rolled over onto his side with a wince. "My game is a very old game, okay? The developers didn't have the knowledge and skills yet to make characters with hair. That came with Fix-It-Felix-Jr."

A moment of silence passed, and then Vanellope spoke very softly. "Hey, thanks for catching me."

"If you hadn't been stupid enough to untie yourself in the _first place..."_

Vanellope knew she was pushing it just by bringing up the subject, but she had to say something about earlier. A dozen questions were still running through her head about the day; most being why he had intentionally jumped off the tree and injured himself to save her.

"Hey, want a massage? I give good ones!"

Pretending to not hear the pixie, Turbo shut his tired eyes. He felt soft, little fingers prod at his aching back muscles, and whatever protests or snarls for the child to get away was lost in what almost sounded like a purr as she kneaded his stress and pain away.

"_In a field of gumdrop flowers, and past the chocolate rivers of dreams..."_

Turbo's blood froze rigid in his veins and his heart seemed to stop as he shoved himself up onto his elbows to stare wide eyed at the child. His contentment and peace had completely vanished.

"What did you just sing?!" His tone was so _sharp_ it made the girl pull away with a nervous expression.

"Oh, well, I heard that sometimes in fancy spas they put music on to relax their customers!" She smiled a little. "And I know I don't have anywhere to put music on...so I thought I'd sing instead."

* * *

_"__Now Vanny, honestly, we can't go through this at every bedtime!" King Candy was trying to keep a gentle tone to his voice, but it was edged with impatience. "Papa has stuff to do and you need to sleep, young lady!"_

_"__But Papa!" Dressed in a cotton gown with her raven hair back in a licorice braid, Vanellope sat back against her marshmallow pillow and pouted up at her father. "I can't help it if I'm not tired!"_

_"__You need to at least attempt it, my little sugar cube," the sugary king all but pleaded with his child. He flashed Turbo, who was standing at the door, an apologetic look._

_"__My apologies, Turbo. I know I said I'd show you all around the castle, but I may be late in doing it at this rate."_

_The racer merely waved him off with a pale hand and gave a polite smile. "Take your time...your majesty. I don't mind waiting for the pixie to go to sleep."_

_"__Papa, can we do our rhyme again? Perhaps that will make me tired."_

_The king exhaled a harsh, defeated sigh and slumped down onto the bed beside his daughter. He reached over and pulled the child into his lap, cradling her. "I have a better idea. What about a lullaby? It's like our rhyme, only it has a tune to it."_

_Chocolate eyes beamed up and a head bobbed excitedly as she nestled into his shirt._

_"__In a field of gumdrop flowers, and past the chocolate rivers of dreams..."_


	13. Chapter 11 - Secrets Of The Heart

_(I hope you've all prepared your feels for this chapter. We're quickly reaching the climax, and thus, the end of the fic is coming fast as well. I'm still debating whether or not to add a Christmas chapter; I'm not sure if it'd take away the focus of where the fic is heading, and I still need a good plot in mind. People can pitch ideas if they want._

_Felix and Turbo is the next relationship to really be touched on, and that's a heart breaking chapter when it comes up. And it might be a little bit until the next chapter is up. I still have a lot to do to get ready for Christmas. ;)_

_Thanks to everyone that participated in the ask page for the link twins. pajamaboyandpixie . tumblr . com I'm sorry it's taking me a while to get to everyone, but since there's a lot I want to respond with drawings, it takes a while.)_

* * *

_Find the child, that's what Turbo ordered his servants. He had no idea what the pixie would be wearing, so he simply said to look for the raven haired girl with sprinkles in her hair. He doubted that part of her appearance would have changed much._

_The servants had been confused as to what he wanted with the child, but Turbo simply insisted it was none of their business. And it wasn't._

_His doughnut guards must have had sprinkles for brains because hardly any of the children they found had raven hair. Perhaps Turbo should simply have said to look for the girl with black hair instead._

_It was on a cruise through the kingdom in King Candy's car that Turbo himself found the little girl. She was hiding behind a large, golden werther next to the race track, and peering miserably out at all the racers as occasional flickers of blue riddled her tiny body._

_When she saw him, Turbo's innards flickered with fear that she'd recognize King Candy, but the timid little pixie only stared up at him with a look of fright._

_"Who are you?"_

_The phony monarch tittered as he approached the girl, kindness in his brown eyes. "There's no need to fear me, my dear, little one. I promise not to hurt you." _

_And he wouldn't, so long as the child didn't try to go against him. As far as he as concerned, Vanellope could have all the freedom in the game that she wanted-just as long as she kept her grubby little hands off a steering wheel._

_The child continued to sit there, blankly._

_Turbo hid a sneer as a flicker of blue jerked her programming again. She visibly winced and cried out from the pain the glitch had brought. When it passed, there were tears in her eyes._

_"Everyone is treating me weird around here," the sugary imp said, her voice hoarse and sniffling. "As if I'm a disease, and I don't feel good, and people keep picking on me."_

_Whine, whine, whine; this is why Turbo hated children. They never shut up. The arcade was always filled with kicking and screaming as parents yanked their little ones away from the machines to take them home._

_"Hoo-hoo, my, that's certainly the list of grievances," Turbo laughed, but he quickly cleared his throat and put on the comforting visage again. "You're being treated differently because you are different, child. I mean, look at you!"_

_He gestured to the blue pixels sporadically flickering across her body. Vanellope looked down at herself as well, tears continuing to dribble down her pink cheeks. She gave him a pained look._

_"Look at your coding, it's absolutely ridiculous the way it sputters and flickers like that. You are quite the eyesore!"_

_The child gave an agonized flinch, more tears beginning to spill over. "I am?" She cringed as another spasm of glitches racked her coding. "I don't know where it came from. I mean, I don't know why my code is doing this."_

_"I do," Turbo said simply. He felt the child's yearning and hopeful look, and he turned to her. "It's because you weren't even meant to be in this game. What gave you the impression otherwise? Your coding was a mistake. Glitches have no places in games, dear~!"_

_The pixie's face scrunched up as further tears began to abashedly spill down her face. "But I don't want to be a glitch!"_

_Turbo welcomed the little munchkin into his arms with a firm, mockingly sympathetic hug. "Oh, I know, little jelly bean," he purred, almost soothingly. The child was still confused, but she found her little fists clinging to the fabric of the man's shirt; the only man that had shown her 'compassion'._

_"Nobody means these things to happen and it isn't your fault!" _Quite the contrary_, he thought with an inward snicker. "Why it's the developers' fault for not coding you properly. When it all comes down to it, you are a glitch, and a glitch is all you'll ever be! Hoho~"_

_"I want to race like the other girls!"_

_Something new flickered in the kind man, as those soft, chocolate eyes glinted with a sudden malice, his look becoming cold and exposing the demon underneath. "That is out of the question," he told the girl sharply. "Glitches can't race."_

_"But I bet I could be a great racer!" Vanellope exclaimed, her tear-soaked eyes shining at the thought. "And I could show everyone just what Vanellope Von Schweetz can d-"_

_The child was cut off by her own pained cry as Turbo sharply gripped her by the ear, and she cowered at the anger and level of coldness in the adult she had trusted a moment ago. She matched his glare with a brave one of her own. It was the official moment that sparked the future years of hatred and rivalry._

_"I can be a kind king, my dear, even to you," Turbo began in a calm and scathing voice. "But if you go against my rules, this king might have to get a little mean." Seeing the child tremble and watching more tears spill, he released her ear and began to walk merrily away._

_"But I'm sure we'll have no more nonsense out of you, and you won't have to worry about me being mean so long as you do what I say, little jelly bean~! Ohoho, that rhymed!" He was getting better at playing King Candy than he thought._

_Picking herself back up off the ground, Vanellope wiped her nose on her sleeve. "And if I don't?" she said, half challengingly, and half frightened._

_"Then you won't like what will happen."_

* * *

It was her father's lullaby. How could that be? How could she remember that? It _wasn't_ possible! The events that transpired in the vault long ago erased every memory up until he ruined Vanellope's code. Not _one_ soul was supposed to have any memory of the real king.

_Calm down_, the racer told himself, inhaling a deep breath. Just because the munchkin sang that song didn't mean she remembered. Songs originated from everywhere. Perhaps the king had gotten it from somewhere in Sugar Rush and so had Vanellope.

Under the weak self assurance, Turbo knew it wasn't true. That stupid king was practically famous for all the weird songs he made up; most having to do with candy or how much he loved his daughter. Every second the monarch seemed to come up with another tune that made no sense.

That had definitely been King Candy's lullaby.

* * *

Time passed, and thankfully, the lullaby had been a one-time thing. Turbo never again heard the song that came from King Candy's mouth, but that didn't mean there wasn't more evidence the child was beginning to remember.

Vanellope's attempts to reach out to his humanity turned into genuine moments of wanting to be with him, and play with him. The pixie had warmed up considerably to him, despite the coldness he still showed her; although albeit, not as often as before.

It wasn't uncommon for the racer to be sitting there, brooding—only to have the munchkin randomly leap onto his shoulders or his head, which usually caused them both to go toppling since they were nearly the same size.

The munchkin forced him into all kinds of silly games that he usually had no choice but to play. Often the rest of Vanellope's family would be off at the side, laughing as he was forced to suffer the indignation of her humiliating little play sessions.

Honestly, Turbo could feel no withering hatred or humiliation when the child played with him. The only thing he did feel was disturbed. The silly little games Vanellope played with him were ominously all of the games she used to play with her father. Everyone else could fawn over how endearing they thought it was all they wanted, but to Turbo nothing was more sickening.

"What do ya think?"

"Unbelievable, kid. You get rid of a deadly, burning hot pool of carbonated lava, and put this in instead?!"

Ralph stared, gawking with another pair of eyes and hanging jaw at the secret project Vanellope had been hiding for weeks.

The rubble of edible rocks having been cleared away, in its place instead was a long, and steep ramp made entirely out of peanut brittle and looming over a pit of steaming, brown liquid. Making a path on the top of the brown froth were pale, sticky marshmallows leading out of the pit of liquid.

"Jimminy Jamminy, Vanelley, are you trying to boil the other racers?" Felix exclaimed. "This...um..." He didn't want to hurt the child's feelings. "This isn't the best idea you've had."

Unfazed, and probably ignoring his concern, the child only gestured happily to the pale racer beside her, situated in his little candy car. "The hot chocolate was Turbo's idea, and the ramp was mine!"

Ralph gave a bitter snort. "Oh, of course. Figures the deadly, corrosive liquid was the little psycho's ide-" Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, 'the little psycho' behind him roughly bumped him into the hot liquid with the front of his car.

Felix cried out in terror as his friend and colleague plummeted forward into the steaming liquid with a thick, heavy splash. The surface rippled and bubbled.

"Oh my land!" The handyman whipped up into a frenzy as he fell dramatically onto his knees, in front of the lake. "Ralph! Oh brother, can you hear me? Oh, he's been liquified! Oh!" His hands flung to his face as the tears started to build.

A few more bubbles frothed at the surface and then Ralph floated up, on his back, like a raft. He spat out the remnants of chocolate and gave a pleasured sigh. "Oh, this hot chocolate feels good."

His eyes dripping like faucets, Felix looked over at the two racers. "Huh?"

The munchkin flashed the handyman a grin and stabbed a wafer sign into the crumb soil. It read _Hot Chocolate Hot Spa._

"A-_doy,_" Vanellope giggled, casually crossing her arms and leaning against the sign. "In the races, it's the _Hot Chocolate Bouncy Marshmallow Obstacle! _Outside of the races, it's the _Hot Chocolate Hot Spa!"_

The toothpick at the pale racer's side continued to sniffle, which prompted the annoyed Turbo to angrily jerk his head toward the saccharine spa, where Ralph was relaxing on a marshmallow.

"Quit yer sniffling, Fix-it! He's fine!"

"Well, I take back that you two are bone heads," the wrecker hummed from atop his sugary back rest. "This is a pretty good idea after all."

Vanellope lowered an eyebrow. "You never called us bone heads."

"I was thinking it."

Vanellope's chocolate eyes narrowed in indication that she was about to retort with a mean nickname of her own, but she changed her mind and instead gestured to the track. "It took a lot of reprogramming and planning, but Turbo has taught me about coding and stuff."

Ralph smirked and peeked a blue eye over to the munchkin. "You're not planning on game jumping on us, are ya?"

"Shut up, Stink-brain, the president is talking here!"

Turbo's golden eyes rolled all the way back in their sockets as the two went off into one of their famous bantering wars. He turned back to Felix, finding his former friend still in a state of post-trauma and shaking. Geez, it was just a prank. They used to play them on each other all the time.

"Fix-it." He tapped the handyman's shoulder, snorting in amusement when he jumped in fear. "It's hot chocolate, not fire."

"Alright, Pajama Boy." Turbo turned just in time to reflexively catch a pair of racing goggles tossed to him. "You do the demonstration!"

"Me, really?" The phantom-like racer stared with eyes as wide as dinner plates at the steep, candy-coated slope leading into the sweet beverage. Adrenaline pumped through him and his heart pounded in excitement.

"Well sure," the pixie said nonchalantly. "If you think you're up for it." She giggled as the racer tore past her and practically pounced into his vehicle, fumbling to start it up. Vanellope narrowly avoided being run over as the racer sped off to the ramp.

"Wow," Ralph mused as he shook off the remnants of marshmallow film and froth. "He's pretty excited."

"He would be, "Vanellope laughed. "It's the most daring and exciting thing he's probably done in a long time." The racer hadn't actually been on the track since he almost glitched himself off the candy cliffs.

"Aren't you worried about his safety on this thing though?"

The munchkin blew a raspberry in the air and waved her hand dismissively. "Worried about what? Him falling into a lake of chocolate, or suffocating in a marshmallow?" She grinned and looked over at the road leading up the ramp.

Turbo's very code was racing with excitement as he tightly clutched onto his wheel and experimentally tapped his gas pedal. This was it, the first, real taste of racing he was going to get in almost two months!

What a thrill it was, going barreling down a peanut-brittle road and into a bubbling lake! The only thing in this game that came that close was Rainbow Ridge and the way it plummeted suddenly. As much as Turbo wanted to grudgingly admit, nothing in Turbo Time came close to this.

Of course, in the narcissist's mind, no game would ever be better than Turbo Time, but the flat, circular prairie lands in the game did get rather boring at times. There were tiny ramps here and there, but nothing as dare-devil as some of the things in Sugar Rush.

Bolting fiercely up the golden ramp, the racer began plummeting downwards, laughing as the wind felt as if it was ripping his very flesh off. Oh, this was the life! "Turbo-tastic!"

Ralph and Felix watched on as the white go-kart shot down the nutty slide.

"I can see how this is a joy ride and all, kid, but how is the race supposed to go on if the racers just go flying into a chocolate swamp?"

Vanellope grinned and looked pointedly over at the marshmallows. "The marshmallows are there for a reason, Ralphie Boy. If our code calculations are correct, Turbo will land right in the center of the first marshmallow. Then, he'll bounce across the rest!"

It seemed like a long shot, but crazier things had happened in Litwak's arcade, so Felix and Ralph certainly didn't question it.

Turbo went catapulting off the end of the ramp, laughing like a loon as he flew through the air. He seemed about to make the land, up until the group at the ground saw his white car flicker blue, and seem to jump precariously higher.

"NOT TURBO-TASTIC!" they heard the panicked racer screech from the air, fumbling with his wheel in a panic as he missed the marshmallow and went crashing down into the hot liquid.

The three watched as the beverage bubbled and rippled, the chocolate soaked, very much alive, and heavily disconsolate looking Turbo floating to the surface.

Felix was the first to act as he bolted over and tossed in a lifesaver, and quickly reeled the silent racer in. He grabbed the limp hand in his own and tugged Turbo out, jumping at the glitch that invaded his body from Turbo.

The ghost-skinned racer sat silently at the edge of the chocolate pit and dangled his legs in the liquid.

Mixed emotions welled up in the group that watched him. Vanellope, and Felix for the most part, felt nothing but empathy for the glitch-addled racer, while Ralph felt a mixture of pity and satisfaction.

Needless to say, one of them had to reach out. Felix stood at the right side of his former friend, while Vanellope stood on the other. The urge to extend a hand to the other's shoulder like he did back in the old days was overwhelming to Felix, but he kept his hands firmly by his sides.

"Aw, don't be sulking, Pajama Boy!" Vanellope never was the kind that cheered up using hugs and cuddles and kisses; her forte was more to joke, and tickle, and generally see if her good spirits could lift his.

"You did really good, Turbo! I mean, you didn't glitch when you went up the ramp. And it's a good thing you didn't, really. You may have died if you made a slip up there." She gave him a friendly pat on the back. "You're getting there!"

"Oh, shut up!" the racer snarled scathingly. "I still glitched, even after all the training. It's not fair..."

"Don't be sore now, Turbo," Felix offered. "You'll get there! Vanellope did."

Turbo hissed again. "Vanellope's glitch was a suppressant of her real ability to teleport in races! Mine isn't. Mine is because my program is corrupted! I can't teleport to wherever I please like she can."

"I call it speedy transportation. It sounds cooler."

The pale-skinned racer heaved a dramatic sigh and flopped against the candied ground. His yellow eyes rolled up to see the little munchkin staring down at him. She huffed out in annoyance.

"Come on, Pajama Boy. Just cheer up, would ya?"

"I don't wanna," he mumbled under his breath, like a sulking four year old.

She gave him a little kick with the toe of her boot. "I'm serious, cheer up."

"No!"

Vanellope lowered an eyebrow, gave a shrug, and plunged her little fingers toward his tummy.

The racer's frigid form seized with laughter and glitches as he fought to get the child away from him. Like making him forcibly laugh and convulse on the ground would make him feel better! If anything, it'd make him feel worse and it'd probably push him to roll back into the hot chocolate. Evil little minx!

Through his many, disoriented attempts he managed to grab a hold of her ankle and give it a yank, sending her on her back. With a swift movement, he had her dangled over the steaming liquid, similar to the way he held her above the bathtub not too long ago.

"This seems familiar," Turbo mused to himself, a pale hand scratching under his chin. He gave a wicked smirk, flashing his yellow teeth. "Only too bad you aren't sick right now, because I have nothing stopping me from dropping you." Although he'd prefer a cold tub to a warm, soothing liquid for revenge.

Displaying the acrobatic skills Turbo didn't know she had, Vanellope swung up and grabbed his hands, wrenching her ankle free from his grip. She swung there, back and forth with an impish giggle.

"Look at me, I'm a sugary monkey!"

_"Vanellope Von Schweetz, when I'm through with you, you'll wish you had never sprayed whipped cream at this Daddy!"_

_The raven-haired girl screamed with a mixture of playful fear and laughter as her father dangled her over a nearby lake of lemonade. King Candy tried to purposely frown under the layers of whipped cream, but his giggles betrayed him._

_The sugary imp only wormed out of her father's grip and instead held onto his hand as if it was a handlebar, swinging back and forth._

_"Look at me, Papa! I'm a sugary monkey!"_

Recoiling from the sudden metal images, Turbo dropped the child accidentally as shivers rushed up his spine. He tried not to behave suspiciously and shook off the bothering thoughts as the angry girl surfaced.

"Eugh!" the pixie whined. "Sticky! Geez, Turbo! I tickle you and you drop me into a pool of hot chocolate?"

"You're lucky I didn't strap an anvil to your chest like I should have!" There was a different touch to the threat; it was hard to detect, but it was there.

The rest of the crew slipped into the confectionery spa with audible sounds of pleasure. Sticky and sugary or not, it was extremely relaxing-and with marshmallow chairs to boot!

Turbo was still tense and chilled from the unsettling visions, but he eventually decided to join the group. He had nothing better to do; he still couldn't race. Plus, the spa seemed rather nice...

The racer felt a happy purr bubble up in his throat as he waded through the warm liquid.

He and the kid had done well. Turbo never thought she'd be such a master at codes, but she had managed to figure out how to built this bonus track pretty well after he taught her some stuff. They visited the vault day by day to do a little work. Each time, Turbo left to check their link and see if there was any signs of breaking, but there never was. He did notice though, his code seemed to be slowly mending itself due to their shared strength. Perhaps soon he wouldn't be a glitch anymore.

* * *

Turbo didn't want to go to bed that night. He had a feeling that if he did, he'd dream about King Candy. Given how he and the munchkin could see each other's dreams, that wouldn't be the happiest situation.

It was only a matter of time before Vanellope found out what he was hiding. The link was strong, and subconscious memories from his mind were beginning to leak into hers. Turbo was left to wonder why he was hiding anything at all. Didn't there used to be a time where he felt proud of how he managed to take over this game?

Why didn't he just openly admit to the girl that he killed her father? It wasn't like there was anything he could do about it, or anything she could do about it. Well, she'd probably throw him into the Fungeon forever, or find a way to break the link safely so she could kill him. A child only stayed innocent until she found out that someone she had come to trust (he still didn't know why) killed her father.

_That's why she can't know. I just don't want to have to spend the rest of my time in a dungeon. _He didn't give a damn about the child. He hated her.

Or did he. Words were only words...

As the racer walked back to his room, he was hit with the most powerful wave of sadness and longing he had ever felt. It was out of nowhere, automatically bringing tears to his eyes that he wasn't able to stop. The pain wasn't his own. It was the child's.

The visions demanded entry to his mind, and Turbo could only fight them so long before they finally overtook him. They also weren't his, not this time. He was seeing Vanellope's dream.

_They were in King Candy's old throne room, or so it seemed. Everything seemed darker, so nothing was really distinguishable. Turbo had a feeling everything seemed to be shady because the child couldn't remember all the details._

_Vanellope was in a rocking chair, bundled in someone's arms as hands tenderly smoothed through her hair, a face pressing against the sobbing child's neck. _

_"I'm scared," the girl whispered._

_"Vanellope, my sweet little darling," the familiar, lisping voice of King Candy spoke. "Everything is alright." Lips kissed the child's flushed cheeks and brushed her tears away._

_"You must think I'm such a baby for crying over a silly dream..."_

_"My little cupcake, there's no shame in having fears. We all have fears; it's just a normal part of emotions."_

_Wet and wide chocolate eyes stared up at him through the layers of tears. "What do you fear?"_

_"My greatest fear? It's that someday I may not be able to protect you. Someday I may not be here. For however long, I don't know. But my greatest fear is that I'll be apart from you."_

_This did nothing to pacify the poor girl, but she only buried back into the shady figure. "That won't ever happen. We won't ever be apart."_

Turbo stumbled out of the dream, the pain of the child overwhelming. The cries he was hearing now wasn't from the dream, especially since it had ended. Without a second thought, the racer darted into Vanellope's bedroom.

The child was just beginning to wake up, her face soaked in tears. She sobbed out into the dark, feeling a level of heartbreak she didn't think possible, and didn't understand. Alone. Scared. Yearning.

She was awake well enough. He didn't need to go in there, but he still did.

Circumstances were obviously different from last time. Mostly because Turbo hated her with every fiber of his being before, and he could have sworn he still did. Turbo was able to feel the flashes of pain from her dreams, and the visions distorted in front of him.

"Vanellope," Turbo whispered. "Come on, Pixie, wake up. Pixie, open your eyes."

The pixie opened her soaked eyes, tears streaking her flushed cheeks and pouring down her face. Her lip trembled as her face scrunched up in agony. "Turbo!" she cried.

The racer sat there, stunned, and utterly frozen as her small, nine year old form threw herself against him, her face burying into his chest. The display caused Turbo to jerk and flicker, although he still didn't move an inch.

However friendly she had tried to be with him, Vanellope had never actually hugged him, at least not for comfort. The closest she really came to it was burying into his shirt after the mountain collapsed, but she had never actually reached for him willingly.

This was wrong. So much about this was wrong; the fact something flickered inside him when the girl clung to him, the child dreaming about her dead father that she didn't even remember, and him letting the girl stay in physical contact with him. Although honestly, that was the least that was wrong.

Vanellope's tiny form seemed to disappear into him. She warmed his lap immediately and somehow found a way to tug at something he didn't even know was in his heart. Doleful and wet chocolate flecks of brown peered up at him, frightened and begging.

"Don't leave me."

The racer was still for a moment, and then a hand rested on her back.

It was only a pointless gesture, but it made all the difference in the world to Vanellope.


	14. Chapter 12 - To Love A Child

_(A few people have been asking and yes I must clarify that Turbo does indeed have a lisp in this fic, but I choose not to write it. Why? Because writing the "th" sound for every "s" gets redundant. However, it is very pronounced and will be written when he gets REALLY mad. XD "VANELLOPE VON STHCWEETZ!" As I stated in my tumblr there will be no Christmas chapter, but I may write a separate Christmas oneshot if people are interested._

_Also please see my deviantart Cryssy-miu for adorable collaborated art me and the ever famous fillyblue have been working on based off the fic._

_Next chapter almost entirely focuses just on Felix and Turbo.)_

* * *

_People could say what they wanted about him and most if it would be true, but Turbo did shelter the brat for ten years._

_Each day as King Candy he'd check on the pixie to make sure she stayed twenty feet away from any go-kart, and to check to see if she was alive and well. It was often difficult to find the girl and he seldom ever did when she retreated back into her volcano._

_But there was one day the racer would never forget._

_No matter how strong the defenses of the programming, viruses would always be a threat to any game. Both of his games were no exception to that rule. A virus could attack any time, and its severity depended on how efficient a program's spyware was._

_One particular week, a dangerous malware attacked the arcade. Most games were automatically protected and suffered little from it, Sugar Rush included. Being as paranoid as he was, Turbo hacked back into his game and increased its defenses. If any character showed the slightest little pixel problem during arcade hours disaster would strike._

_And if he glitched, it could corrupt King Candy's disguise and expose who he was._

_While other games would have considered the drastically increased protection a little over the top, he only found it necessary to keep his plans in order. The increased spyware protected all of Sugar Rush. Except for one thing._

_"Your highness!"_

_"Not now, Duncan. Can't you see I'm busy?" The monarch stood at the side of King Candy's white, glossed car and smiled, giving it a rub with a cotton candy rag. His guards were right; cotton candy did prove to be an excellent absorbent._

_"It's the glitch."_

_Turbo tutted in annoyance, "Let me guess, the little cavity is in the bakery, is she? You know the drill, Duncan. Oh, and don't be afraid to use those clubs on her. The little freak could use some discipline."_

_"She's sick."_

_The racer paused in mid-rub, his bushy eyebrow raising as his face hardened. "What do you mean she's _sick?_ Characters don't get _sick_, they get viruses! And the game's spyware is as hard as a jawbreaker. Nothing could get past it."_

_Turbo crossed his arms and pushed aside his confectionery servants as he made his way to his surveillance chamber. Hidden, tiny video cameras littered every inch of the kingdom with the exception of the bakery. The guards he had assigned for that area covered everything else._

_Icy, brown eyes targeted a particular screen, where it showed the striped forest of candy cane trees. Bunched under a tall tree, trying to shield herself with her hoodie was the little pixie. Every few seconds her body went into spasms of glitching; much more severe than he remembered them to be._

_The harsh spectrum of colors that made up the child's body seemed to have utterly drained; the pigments of every square inch of her paler and sicker as the malware ate at her coding. The virus (which Turbo didn't even need to do research to figure out) she had was eating at every, last remaining figment he had left of her coding._

_The increased spyware was designed to protect every program in the game, but since Vanellope was now a glitch and all but completely detached from the main system, she was now no longer considered part of the game. She wasn't protected, and she'd die shortly._

_"Sire, should we put her in the Fungeon again?"_

_Turbo should have said yes, and had he known of the miseries the brat would put him through in the future, he probably _would_ have said yes. At this time, the racer's mind, although tainted with darkness, had not completely given to insanity yet, and killing the child wasn't in his plans. As long as she didn't give him reason to kill her, he'd keep his promise to King Candy._

_"That won't be necessary."_

_Turbo walked briskly past his guards and down toward the chamber of codes._

_For the child whose program technically made her his daughter, ungrateful brat she was with all he did for her. Numerous chances to kill her and he never even attempted it. He had given her several warnings and the time in the Fungeon was intentionally brief (until eventually he realized he needed to keep her imprisoned forever). It would be a tedious job, but he'd probably be able to destroy the malware before what remained of the child's coding was eaten completely._

* * *

It was uncomfortable, to say the least, sleeping with your head against a wall and a rather heavy, warm munchkin in your arms, but Turbo didn't complain. He didn't sleep very well, and to be honest, he was glad he didn't drift off into a sleep deep enough to dream. He wasn't ready to tell Vanellope about her father yet, and if she had to find out by _dream..._

The racer cracked a stinging eye open to the light and gazed down at the sleeping girl. She was cradled in his arms, and he didn't even remember putting her in this position. Last night was a blur of tears and emotion.

_"I had...I had a dream," the munchkin had whispered as her tears stained his white jump suit. Turbo's pale hand stayed on her back, occasionally giving it a subtle pat or rub._

_The racer knew every detail of the dream but decided to play it oblivious. After all, since he didn't have any dreams yet, he wasn't sure if Vanellope knew they could see into each other's subconscious mind._

_"Yeah, I rather figured. What about, Pixie? Was it...a bad dream?"_

_"No," the girl mumbled, squeezing out further tears. "No, it was a great one! And that's...that's what I just can't understand. Someone was holding me._

_"I thought m-maybe it was Felix because he does that some time, but it didn't sound like Felix. The figure was too thin to be Ralph. He...wasn't much bigger than me. His voice was too whispered f-for me to really hear who it was, but he talked funny."_

_Turbo's heart stopped and his grip tightened on the child in fear. He and King Candy had the same speech impediment: a lisp. It was one of the things that made taking over his body so easy since he had similar mannerisms._

_"Well...maybe it was me holding you." Turbo cringed at the words he spoke. The thought of him cuddling and rocking the pixie made him want to gag, but it was better she thought it was him than her dead father._

_"Maybe...but it just felt so comfortable and familiar. As if I really knew the person and they really knew me. A-and I was so sad when the dream ended."_

_The racer shut his eyes. "Well, it's late now, kid. Just get some sleep."_

_"Stay with me..."_

_Sigh. "Fine."_

Turbo's bloodshot eyes drifted back down to the little child. She nestled close into his jumpsuit, continuing to breathe gently. At the very least she seemed a little more tranquil.

Maybe it was the events from the night before, but Turbo didn't feel the urge to shove her sleeping form to the floor or out a window like he usually did. Instead, the racer stood with her and calmly slipped her back onto her bed, even absently tossing a fold of her covers over her back.

The racer made his way back out to the balcony and rested his chin in his arms. What was with him and balconies? It always seemed to be the place he chose to do his soul searching; the present and the past. Felix was always able to tell when something was wrong with him simply by how he stood on the balcony to the Penthouse.

"Can I get you anything for breakfast?"

The racer spun around, his gaze falling on the small, slick-lime form at his feet. Sour Bill. The tiny morsel of candy wasn't giving him a look of hate; just his typical, dead-pan, Sour Bill expression. Sour Bill was probably the only one that knew who he was and didn't hate him in this game.

"Yeah...thanks."

Without another word, the candy waddled off toward the kitchen. Nothing else to do, Turbo followed suit behind his old friend.

It was strange how docile Turbo felt, and how it even showed in the peacefulness on his face. His golden eyes didn't simmer with hate and every facial expression wasn't a glare or a sneer. No, he felt genuinely calm.

"Sour Bill, can I ask you something? What do you remember of King Candy?"

The little candy glanced up from where he was preparing a stack of pancakes. His lime-eyes rolled. "It was only a few months ago; my memory isn't that bad. I remember everything when you were King Candy."

Just as Turbo thought: he didn't have any memory of the real King up until Turbo took over his avatar. Doubtlessly, the rest of the characters would probably give the same story. They'd remember Candy as this fake-sugar-sweet monarch that hid his true malice, as opposed to the original, loving and kind hearted king that no one would ever remember.

Turbo wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disheartened that Sour Bill didn't remember anything of his old friend. It would have been a little more comforting having someone to talk to that knew what was going on. Then again, confessing would be good practice for when he had to finally spill the jelly beans to the _daughter_ of the man he killed.

A tiny, squeaky yawn came from the doorway. There stood Vanellope, in her bedraggled state, with the ruffled nightgown, bed-head and everything. She stretched up onto the balls of her feet. Turbo hoped it was a trick of the light, because a brief ripple of blue and static flashed through her.

"Morning, Munchkin," the racer muttered, slightly agitated. "And how did you sleep?" (Certainly better than he had propped against a hard wall).

The pixie seemed to sense his annoyance and looked shamefully at the floor rather than try to crack a joke to lighten the mood.

"Your pancakes, President," Sour Bill said tonelessly as he plopped a stack of blueberry pancakes in front of the child.

Turbo watched her as she ate, observing her every movement. The girl didn't dive into her food with her usual vigor, but rather quietly picked up the fork and twiddled it in the plate.

Something was wrong. Something was _off_ in her eyes, and it wasn't just emotion from last night's events. There was something deeper than her memories starting to return. Turbo couldn't place it, and it bothered him.

"Anything on the agenda for today, Pixie?" Her little agenda was normally bursting with things she wanted to do with him, and most that – other than his glitch lessons – he could care less about. Truthfully, he'd do whatever she wanted right now. Anything to keep from thinking about _it._

"No, I didn't really have anything in mind," the munchkin mumbled, more in favor of playing with her food than actually eating it. "Glitch training if you want it."

Glitch training wasn't a bad option, as long as they didn't return to that puffy, pink paradise of fluffy, bunny nightmares. He had enough bunny frights already with that little vermin constantly tormenting him.

* * *

_Jello Jungle; _it was just a step up from _Marshmallow Meadows_, and far from exciting-at least to him. What could possibly be adrenaline pumping about a race track of soft, gelatinous molds? Wasn't the munchkin ever going to give him some sort of challenge?

"_Jello Jungle,_" Turbo deadpanned, "where the biggest danger here is being suffocated under a mound of gelatinous goop." He shot the child a glare. "Seriously, Pixie? This is ridiculous. And why did you have to bring your stupid smore?!"

Said 'smore' was behind the raven-haired girl, sitting obediently like an angel and stalking the racer with its icing-dot, blue little eyes. Oh great. So Turbo _did_ have to deal with evil bunnies again. Wonderful.

"I know you're impatient to actually get on the road, but we gotta get that glitch under control first!" The pixie walked in a synchronized step with her little, fluffy pink shadow towards the entrance of the race track.

The racer hissed, his usual bitterness returning. "If you can get it under control, I don't see why I can't. And you've done nothing to help me with it. It isn't anymore under control than it was when we started these stupid 'lessons.'"

The child gave a furious scowl and spun to the racer. What an ungrateful brat. "I've done as much teaching as I can do! There's only so much I can do to help you with your glitch, Candy-cane Man."

"Candy-cane Man?"

"The stripes," Vanellope jested with a smirk. She walked alongside him, up to where they had set their cars at the entrance.

"I know it's been a long process, but we need to make sure you're glitch-less before I add you in the game. If you're on the track for real and you glitch over a cliff, or the racers see you glitch..." She paused. Oh, the irony.

Turbo had stopped walking, and the child turned to him. The glare of contempt was gone as he merely blinked at her. "Add me in the game?"

Vanellope stared at him as if he had sprouted three heads, her arms falling to her sides. She shook her head and rolled her eyes to the sky. "Uh..._doy?_ What do you think all these glitch lessons have been for, for fun? Believe me, my definition of fun isn't to spend all day teaching a whiny racer that tried to ruin everyone's lives how to fix their glitch!"

Vanellope's insults and sarcasm didn't even touch him as he kept repeating her words in his head. "You want me to be a part of the game?"

Softness touched the pixie's eyes as she gave an awkward, quiet laugh. "Well..._yeah._ I mean, what'd you think I was gonna do with you? Throw you back into the Fungeon? I mean, you can't even leave this game now, so we may as well make some good use outta ya!"

She folded her little arms and cocked her head to Turbo's car. "But like I said, we can't put you anywhere as long as you're glitching." She snapped her fingers and adamantly pointed to his car seat.

Baffled and without a word to say, Turbo silently complied. He adjusted his steering wheel and turned to the child.

Both candy engines started in sync, letting off twin clouds of edible dust as they sped through the jungle of translucent, wobbling molds.

Everything was going well for the first few moments as they raced steadily down the road. As unappealing as this namby-pamby jelly park seemed to be at first, Turbo had to admit the unbalanced and soft roads were fun, rocking him back and forth like a ship on the water.

"_Jello Jungle_ is a track that's barely used anymore!" Vanellope shouted over her engine. "Gamers look at it and think it's lame just because of its name. It's actually really fun and the best place to practice, because..."

When she drowned out, Turbo merely figured she grew tired of trying to scream over the engines. That's when the ice cold, wet slop catapulted from the air and landed on his car and him, whipped cream and vanilla filling his nostrils.

"Ah!" The racer yelped and swerved rapidly back and forth, fighting to wipe the dairy treat from his eyes. The mound of cream weighed down his car, causing him to both slow and jerk around on the track.

From only a few feet in front of him, Vanellope continued down the road in laughing hysterics.

"BECAUSE THIS PLACE HAS POWER UPS!"

Turbo's eyes narrowed, a feeling welling up in his chest.

It was an archaic feeling, and one almost forgotten from his days in _Turbo Time_, and spending his evenings with Felix at _Tappers_ or the Penthouse. The feeling he got when he hid Felix's hammer on him as a joke, or chased the twins around the track and lightly bumped them with his car:

Playfulness.

The racer darted into a power up, suddenly sporting a large, gumball canon. He smirked as he took aim.

"Have some candy, you rotten little gobstopper!"

How strange that these words were spoken in such drastically different situations; from the top of a mountain in the midst of a battle intended to the death, to shouting them to a little girl in the kitchen in the midst of a grappling and candy fight. And now they were being said back on the race track in the middle of a match where for the first time, it didn't feel like it mattered if Turbo won or not.

Vanellope squealed as the multi-colored gumballs bounced on the road beside and in front of her, narrowly missing her car and rolling into one of the jello molds instead.

"Oh yeah? Have a BUNNY!"

"A what?"

The racer yelped as a pink, squishy thing was tossed onto his car. The squishy thing unrolled, revealing itself to be Marsha. The bunny sat on his hood with its haunting, unblinking blue eyes. Turbo stared back for a moment, caught in the freaky thing's trance.

With a grunt, he shoved Marsha aside and let the pink thing fall with a squeaky bounce into his lap.

"Oh, that's it—you're going to get it now!" He loaded the deadly and sweet ammo back into the gumball canon and prepared to target the child with the spherical, rainbow bullets.

The pixie's car in front of him continued to move in a steady straight line, but Vanellope had all but taken her hands off of the wheel as she stared into the distance with blank, chocolate eyes.

_"Oh you're going to get it now, you wicked little monkey!"_

_"Oh really? You gotta catch me first, Admiral Nose Honker!"_

"PIXIE!"

_"I assure you, my precious little Vanilla bean that when I do catch you, I'll tickle the sprinkles right out of your hair!"_

"VANELLOPE!"

Vanellope was jerked out of the state of familiar nostalgia by the screeching sound of Turbo's tires, and the sudden red mass she was about to crash into-that she was dimly able to see through some blue static.

Wait, static?

"Pixie! Teleport or something!"

Vanellope shook off the remnants of voices and static. She closed her eyes in concentration; teleporting now took little to no effort what-so-ever, but the munchkin's form didn't do much more than flicker blue. She couldn't teleport.

Pins and needles riddled her coding, causing the girl to clutch to her head like the many times Turbo had done in his car.

The child screamed as the front of her car bounced heavily off a flower-shaped jello mold and sent her ricocheting off a few more before she barreled down a cliff.

"VANELLOPE!" Turbo could only watch with golden eyes as wide as dinner plates as the girl went off the steep cliff. He shut his eyes and waited for some sort of sickening thud and for him to disintegrate into coding, but nothing happened.

There was the sound of a harsh 'boing' and a little squeak from below, but other than that, no fatal squelching of engines or the sound of anything breaking.

Wincing, the racer reluctantly peered over the edge of the bouncy road and blinked down, gaping at what did meet his eyes.

Both the child and her car were safe and sprawled out on top of a gelatinous, strawberry-red castle top. The glitching girl tiredly held up a hand and gave him the "okay" sign.

Without a second thought, Turbo jumped out of his car and let himself delicately descend down the steep cliff (it was hard to though; jello provided little leverage).

"Well that was quite the fall." The racer attempted to hide the rush of panic in his face when he remembered what caused the child to fall. She had been thinking about King Candy again.

"Yeah," Vanellope agreed. She crossed her legs and sat with her back against her upturned car. "Good thing the jello caught me."

Her code had ceased flickering, which didn't answer any questions. It just provided more. Was the memory so strong it just interfered with her code?

"What were you thinking of?" Again intentionally playing it stupid.

A distant look came to her chocolate eyes, sad and longing. Turbo felt his innards twist a little. He eased himself into a sitting position next to the girl and looked at her.

He didn't like it when she got this way. As enjoyable as he always assumed her misery and suffering would be to him, he found that, to his annoyance, it caused him little pleasure. All it did was remind him she was getting closer and closer to figuring things out, and he wasn't at all prepared to deal with that when the time came. He didn't want to go back into the Fungeon.

He didn't want her to know what happened.

"I was..." The child licked her lips. "I was just thinking about my dream, I guess." She shrugged. A smirk came to her lips as she looked up at him. "I guess the rest of glitch training will be put on hold for when we get our cars back up those stupid cliffs."

The other racer snorted and flopped back against the bouncy castle. He stared up at the twenty foot drop and sighed, not looking forward to climbing it.

"Hey, where did our pet go?"

_"Our _pet?" Turbo scoffed. "That sugar coated vermin is no pet of-" He was cut off as a pink fluff ball randomly landed on his stomach, causing him to grunt.

"There she is," the munchkin grinned cheekily. She reached over to take her blinking marshmallow into her own arms and buried her face into the soft treat's whipped cream fur.

"I bet I could whip up a good fire," Turbo suggested. He smirked. "I've never had a smore with pink marshmallows before."

Vanellope cried out and angrily held her bunny away from the racer, shooting him a dagger-like glare. "Oh don't you dare! Stop joking about eating my bunny."

"I don't recall ever telling you it was a joke," Turbo said ominously, and hid a snicker as the munchkin squeaked and scooted away from him.

"Putting up with Marsha is a lot easier than putting up with you!" In the spur of the playful moment, she tore a piece of jello clean off the castle and hurled it at the racer.

Turbo's eyes narrowed and darkened, blazing little slits of wrath targeting her through the jello goop in his eyes. The gelatin fell from his face with a wet slop, and the racer remained calm and silent as he didn't move a muscle.

Then his arm shot out, grabbing the pixie's leg. She screamed and fell on her face, but the little minx kicked her way out of his grip and danced across the gelatin roof top of the castle to avoid his grabbing hands.

"You little brat! When I get my hands on you, you're dead!"

Turbo wobbled on unsteady legs to reach the brat. He didn't have much experience with moving on jello; not like she had. Every second of his time was spent on the track, and although Turbo had visited every track in the kingdom, the self-proclaimed best racer wouldn't stick around a place as pathetic as _Jello Jungle_.

Down on his knees, Turbo hopped across the jello bricks to try and reach the evil little pixie. The energy was back in her, it seemed, as she leaped out of the way of his grabbing hands. The blank look of yearning misery was gone as well, at least just for this moment as she delighted in teasing the racer and glitching every time he grabbed for her.

Finally giving up on trying to make a grab for the little munchkin, Turbo merely sat back and watched as she bounced across the castle.

"Hey Pajama Boy, check this out!"

The pale racer watched the girl perform a series of flips. One ended with a bounce that was a little harder than it should have been. The child flew back a few feet and landed headfirst in a jello mold. Her tiny legs kicked as muffled squeals were heard inside the goop.

A few moments passed with more squealing and shouting and Turbo shook his head, a smile on his lips.

* * *

_They sat at the chocolate dinner table at the end of the day, engorging on dinner that was none other than baked goods and candy._

_"Vanellope, darling, please don't eat the table."_

_The tiny pixie hung there off the side of the structure with her little, chipmunk-like teeth clamped down onto the table. She scraped off some chocolate bark with her teeth and licked her lips, grinning._

_Turbo examined past the failing sternness in the king's eyes, easily able to see the true look of endearment and love far more than the racer had ever seen for anyone, and more than the racer was sure he himself ever had for anyone._

_"Who in your life did you care about, Turbo?" King Candy asked his friend._

_The racer's head shot up, not expecting the sudden question. He stared at the kind man for a few moments, and the otherwise emotionless look on his face became tinged with sadness._

_In the beginning, before Turbo locked the memories of his friends forever in his mind, the reminder of the ones he used to call friends and even family always caused proverbial needles to stab his heart._

_"I don't have friends or family," the racer said harshly._

_"Did you?"_

_Gentle, twin faces of equal paleness and a certain, bright eyed and affectionate handyman flashed through his mind for a fleeting moment, before he shoved them aside. "Yes." That was the last time he'd allow himself to think about them again._

_King Candy's silver brows creased with sympathy as he tutted softly at his friend's misfortune. He looked to where Vanellope was now laying happily on the floor and coloring._

_"I love all my subjects, and the little racers. Oh, they're my beloved children as well. But no one could I love more than my darling little Vanellope."_

_Turbo was silent, watching the little pixie as she drew them all together as the family she thought they were in her innocent little mind._

_He couldn't comprehend the kind of love King Candy must feel, because Turbo had never loved a child, and he probably had never loved the people that were in his life more than King Candy loved his daughter._

_"To love a child—there's nothing more amazing, Turbo. And the wonders children can do for you... When you love a child..."_

_Golden eyes silently studied the munchkin, showing no reaction as she looked back and smiled at him._

_"...You'll never be alone."_


	15. Chapter 13 - Nothing Hurts Like This

_(Sorry for the wait guys, but I hope this chapter totally makes up for it. Grab your tissues cause you're gonna need 'em. Oh, and you will all totally hate me at the end of the chapter. c;_

_Ffffff I need to keep remembering to indent titles. I always seem to forget that. -_- Oh, and credit goes to my amazing friends Tobikomi and Mallory and Hunter for some ideas in this. Hunter came up with the gruesome King Candy nightmare. And credit to me dear gothicorca1895 for :the proverbial bitter sundae")_

* * *

_Felix had to fight with everything he had to keep in his laughter as he continued to lead his unsuspecting best friend to the prairie hills away from the race track._

_The stars were bright in the sky tonight. Even though they were technically only programmed light bulbs at the top of their cabinet, they always seemed brighter on some nights, and darker on the others. None the less, Felix loved looking at them-both in his game and Turbo's._

_Therefore, the oblivious racer simply suspected that was where they were going, to look at the stars. In reality, the impish handyman was instead leading the hapless Turbo to his doom after gleefully agreeing to collaborate with the twins to get the cocky racer._

_It had been a hilarious and certainly not unusual sight when Felix saw the annoyed racers gripe about their little brother and what all they wanted to do to him. Turbo was known for his pranking, which was easily evident by the styrofoam beads crowding the other racers' cars and pouring our their open doors._

_"So what are we doing here, Fix-it?" Turbo sighed. "Here to stare at the light bulbs you call stars again? I wanted to spend tonight thinking up ways to get Jet and Set!" He grinned, looking thoughtful. "Maybe maple syrup instead of windshield wiping fluid?"_

_The handyman giggled and grinned back at his friend, taking a seat at the base of a tree. "Trust me, brother, the answers will be clear in just a moment."_

_Before the racer even had a chance to slump down beside his best friend, two larger forms suddenly tackled him to the ground. His feet kicked in instinct, but a devious little handyman pinned his legs down. Turbo uttered a shriek that sounded more like it belonged to a little girl than a guy his age as fingers scribbled under his arms._

_"Gotcha!" the twins cackled in unison._

_"NOOO!" the racer screamed, his curses muddling with laughter. "LET GO OF MEEE!"_

_"Yeah right!" Jet cackled. "So you can what, put chocolate syrup in my window wiping fluid?"_

_"Actually, I was going to use maple syrup," the youngest sibling let slip through his laughter. Fingers stopped tickling as the two brothers exchanged looks and Felix giggled._

_"Is that so?" Jet sneered. "Set, I think it's time for part two of our revenge."_

_Grinning, the younger twin reached behind his back and pulled out a large, cardboard box and held it up over Turbo's red face. The racer didn't have a chance to squeal out for help as the sudden downpour of styrofoam beans attacked his face. He spluttered with growls and laughter as he spat out the beans and promised his revenge to his laughing brothers and best friend._

_It was the last night the three of them would ever have fun again. Road Blasters arrived the very next morning._

* * *

Turbo would never forget this harrowing, and traumatizing night for as long as he lived. The almost inhuman screams of the child continued to linger in his memory, as well as those grotesque and demonic renditions of King Candy.

When the dream first started, nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary. He was in _Sugar Rush_ and looked to be sitting in a lollipop garden with the pixie at his side. His mind felt detached from the dream, so he knew it most likely belonged to the child.

* * *

_It had been a pleasant dream, enough to soothe both minds with its tranquil setting. It looked like a few verbal jabs were tossed back and forth before both he and the munchkin started tossing lollipops at each other._

_Somewhere in the dream, Turbo's unpleasant conscience invaded. Turbo could remember the entire world, Vanellope included, disintegrate into code. He cried out in horror as everything around him died, and instead of sucking his pixels with it, he was left in a black void._

_The terror manifested itself into Vanellope's dream, where the feeble child suddenly found herself trapped, alone in the black void. Frightened tears masking her face, she called out for her family and tried to find Turbo._

_Somewhere in the darkness, a chilling and somehow soothing voice spoke, lisp heavy._

_"Vanellope...thweetie..."_

_The trembling little child slowly turned and stared at the source of the voice, and all color drained from her face. "King Candy?"_

_The creature that was dragging its limp body, arms and all, across the ground was nothing more than a mockery of King Candy. It was a literal skin, missing bones and muscle. Its limbs flopped around lifelessly as it stood in front of the petrified girl. Its head flopped completely to the side with a sickening, slapping sound as its eyeless sockets targeted her._

_"What's with the formalities, my little jellybean?"_

_Vanellope's memories had picked up the soothing voice and image of her father, but Turbo's subconscious continued to terrorize her with the monstrosity before her._

_"NO!" The child fell back onto her rear and desperately scooted back, horrified as the boneless skin followed her. "Who are you?! What happened to your body?!"_

_The monster didn't seem to have heard the second question as a limp and cold hand fell onto the girl's forehead, its lips turning up into a frightening smile. "Don't cry, my little dippy doodle. We are finally together."_

_"TURBO!" The terrified pixie's voice rang out in the dream, high pitched and hysterical. "TURBO, HELP ME!"_

_"T-Turbo? Turbo...Turbo..." The monster became stuck on that word, glitching each time it repeated it. "Turbo...TURBO DID THITH! IT'TH ALL HITH FAULT!"_

_It began to flail almost comically, arms smacking around like rubber, a hand flying into his empty sockets once or twice._

_"N-n-N-now you're hereeee...he promised...I-I'M GOING TO...KILL...T-TURBO...TURBOOOOO!" it screamed, and data burst through its chest as his body disintegrated into tiny pixels, that spilled around Vanellope._

_Vanellope went far past the realm of hysterics as she gripped her head and screamed until she nearly burst every blood vessel in her face. Her face became beet red, and then nearly blue, losing oxygen from all the screaming. "TURBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

* * *

The screams of the pixie sent Turbo bolting up in bed with a near-scream himself as he was finally free of the demon in his nightmare. He gasped out loudly, trying to inhale a breath from his violent hyperventilating, deafened by the sounds of the girl's screams.

The sound would forever haunt the racer. It was by far the most terrifying thing Turbo had ever heard. The screams didn't even sound like they were coming from a young child. They barely sounded human at all.

Trembling, the racer threw open his bedroom door and bolted into Vanellope's room. From in the dim room, Turbo could see a desperate and visibly frightened little green candy trying to calm the child down. Nothing Sour Bill said could even be heard over Vanellope's screams.

The child was awake, or at least she seemed to be. It was hard to tell; her eyes were squinted shut. She was sitting up on her bed, her red fists yanking violently at her head and hair, and her mouth opened in an endless scream. Her healthy, pink face had become crimson, bordering violet from the utter lack of oxygen her hysterics were causing her.

"Whoa! Whoa! Pixie!" Turbo leaped onto the bed, trying to pry her hands away from where she was practically trying to tear the skin off her head. "Vanellope! Vanellope, calm down!"

Vanellope had lost all awareness of everything around her, trapped in a vicious vortex of fear and oblivious to the racer in front of her, that was cupping her heated face in his hands as she continued to scream. By now, her screams had become even more distorted as her throat became raw.

The panicked racer felt helpless. He didn't even think it was possible for the child to reach such a level of fear that she seemed to be on the complete brink of insanity. Nothing else to do, desperate to make the screams stop, he grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and crushed her against his chest.

It was the closest the racer had come to hugging her; hugging was never Turbo's forte. Playing the king and guardian of a bunch of young children he had been hugged by the kids that loved him, but wasn't always enthusiastic in returning it.

He had accepted the embraces, and with little disdain. Having watched over these children for ten years, it had been impossible not to feel some fondness toward them. Of course he'd never love the children as King Candy had, but he still felt a protectiveness over them all.

Eventually, the exhausted and traumatized little girl started to come to. She was shaking violently as she stared up at him with chocolate eyes blank with fear. Wide, yellow eyes gazed back, radiating with just as much fear.

Vanellope couldn't string together a sentence if she tried. Syllables and sounds of the letter "T" (which Turbo assumed was her attempt to say his name) muddled out through the hysterical sobs. She full out clung to him with both arms and legs, her fingers nearly drilling holes into his skin.

"Just...don't try to talk, Vanellope." The absence of his usual nicknames surprised even him, but 'Pixie', 'Munchkin' and especially 'brat' just didn't fit right now. He shut his eyes in exhaustion—only for them to snap open in horror as visions of the macabre king flashed through his memory.

"U-ugh..." She hiccuped and another round of tears fell. The child had no voice and even her breathing was rasping. She was hot to the touch, Turbo realized. Along with the terror, there was a feverish haze in her eyes.

The frail little pixie flickered a few, weak spurts of cobalt blue. Turbo stared down at her and wondered if the glitches were from her terrifying ordeal. Hopefully that was the cause of the fever too.

There was no way the kid was going to stay in her room alone after that, so Turbo didn't even attempt leaving her alone. He wasn't about to sleep against the wall again after last time. That had been horribly painful on his back.

Bidding the still concerned Sour Bill to leave with a silent hand gesture, the racer carefully slipped underneath the candy floss covers with the little girl still clutching to his chest. It wasn't the first time the child had slept on his chest, but it was certainly the first time he had been conscious and allowed her.

The almost inhuman screams of the child continued to linger in his memory, as well as those grotesque and demonic renditions of King Candy.

He stared at the ceiling above, feeling the little munchkin quiver on his chest, under the candy floss blanket. Her face was nestled into his neck and her arms were completely wrapped around his form, so tight her nails dig into his skin.

A pale hand grazed down the girl's heaving back, as his frightened breathing matched her own. Her little pink fingers were entwined in his, gripping so tightly he felt his bones and tendons might crack.

* * *

Memories resonated through the racer's head. His deranged and twisted laugh of glee when he prepared to murder Vanellope on the track, and his sadistic and sickening joy to watch her die by the grisly mercy of the cybugs.

The racer shook his head and gazed down at the sleeping pixie as he quietly slipped on his racing boots. The child, although asleep and calm, was not peaceful. Her face had been twisted into a permanent expression of fear and pain, and her fists were still shaking. It had been hours since the nightmare, but it had deeply traumatized the girl.

The only good news was that it was Sunday. Vanellope didn't need to worry too much about the racers or glitch practice. The child could sleep, and perhaps regain some of her mental and emotional strength.

Golden eyes in a daze, it took the racer a while to realize that large brown eyes were staring up at him, still echoing with a near, fresh fear. She was still shaking.

"Morning, Pixie," Turbo murmured quietly. "How are you doing now?"

The blank look of terror lingered, and Turbo wondered if the child had even heard him in her traumatized mindset. He extended a hand to lay on her chest, and at last, she snapped back into reality, finally focusing her gaze on him.

'Are you okay?' nearly slipped off his tongue, but Turbo bit it back. To ask her that would be the most ignorant thing the racer could think of. Still, the racer wordlessly laid a hand on her trembling shoulder, propelling her up from the bed.

A baby soft, pink hand reached up and gripped his, causing Turbo to involuntarily jump. The munchkin was fully awake, but clearly needing security from the memories that continued to haunt her. Tight little fists clung to his pant leg, and he looked down.

Without saying a word, Vanellope reached up. Turbo met her request with utter silence, where the more popular option would be to shove her into the wall or snarl at her. Then, he scooped her up.

They walked silently out to the kitchen, where it was just the two of them. It was later than they usually slept and everyone was busy among the castle.

Two plates of cold pancakes had been left on the counter from Sour Bill, with congealed, cold blobs of maple syrup. Turbo wrinkled his face in disdain. Cold pancakes were gross.

He slid one plate over to the pixie and poured her a glass of milk. It seemed to take yet another moment of the little girl staring at absolutely nothing to realize that he was motioning the food to her. With a distant nod, she brought the fork to her lips.

Chewing on the cold, battered morsel himself, Turbo gave a grimace of disgust as the chilled and gooey maple syrup squeezed out between his teeth. Vanellope stopped eating completely after only one bite.

The pixie's pink face blanched several shades of an ill green. Eyes widening, she scampered rapidly to the bathroom. Turbo watched her go, rolling his eyes. What a little drama queen. Cold pancakes weren't exactly delicious, but they weren't vomit inducing.

She returned several minutes later, paler and more shaken from the violent retching. Turbo was about to comment on her weak stomach, and that's when the little girl collapsed to the ground, in a fit of violent glitches.

"Vanellope!" Alarmed, Turbo bolted to the distressed child. She whimpered and clutched to him the moment he picked her up. He couldn't remember the last time the little child had been so clingy, especially to him.

The little girl's head fell weakly against his chest, burning through his uniform. His eyes widened.

"Whoa, Munchkin, how'd you get like this?" He yelped as the pixie's coding began to flicker with static aggressively, stinging his chest as well as his entire body.

"I don't know," Vanellope sobbed. Flashes of the gruesome nightmares flashed through her mind, and his, causing both forms to shudder.

"My guess is it's from last night's trauma," Turbo muttered as he brought the child to her room and laid her down on the bed. Her little fists instinctively kept hanging onto his uniform, and she pulled him down right beside her.

"Don't mention last night," the pixie whimpered pitifully. "Don't _ever_ mention last night!"

Sensing she was about to go into absolute hysterics again, the racer laid a soothing hand on her forehead. "Whoa, whoa. Okay, okay, calm down." She stopped shivering under his touch, but he kept his hand there.

"I'm scared, Turbo," the child whimpered. He couldn't remember the last time she had seemed so young, especially as she slid herself into his lap. He stood there, stiffly, and then laid a hand on her head.

"Of what?"

"I-I don't know," Vanellope sobbed, her entire body trembling and glitching. "I just can't explain why I'm scared. I-I mean, I know the nightmare was...the worst I ever had, but...there's just some other thing and I can't explain why I'm so upset!" Her face twisted up in anguish as she further burst into tears.

Painfully, the racer hung his head and stared down at the little pixie. "Well...I..." He didn't know what to say. What was he supposed to say? 'I'm sorry you're remembering your father that I killed'? "For now let's just get you to sleep. You don't look well."

"I don't feel well," came the sniffling whimper. Turbo's hand moved down through the child's raven hair, only for her glitching to cause his hand to flicker up in painful, icy pixels. He withdrew his hand with a sigh.

"Well..." His mutter came out without a thought. "I'll take care of you."

* * *

Turbo was at a considerable distance from the castle. It was as far as he could go from the pixie without feeling the threat of glitches. It was far enough, close to the exit even. Turbo didn't want to be anywhere near Vanellope.

For once, it wasn't because he hated the girl. Oh no, already he had come to realize that couldn't be true if he wanted it to be. He didn't want to see her because he couldn't bear the look of despair as this link progressively ate away her amnesia and rekindled the buried memories. Soon enough, it would all come back.

Soon enough, he'd have to answer to the dreaded, heart wrenching question: "where is my Papa?"

Turbo was content to spend the rest of the night (and his life) in the candy floss by the rainbow road. He wouldn't have to listen to Vanellope's night time crying as she slept. The dreams he was forced to endure from her mind every night were bad enough, but the crying was just the cherry on top of the proverbial, bitter sundae.

The racer sat back and leaned against a sticky, soft gumdrop for comfort. He remembered one night where the king had dragged him out. It was still bright out, of course, but it didn't stop the sugary monarch from wanting to cloud gaze with both his daughter and the racer.

Turbo had hated it. Besides the fact he was forced to spend extended time with the imbeciles, their night-time cloud gazing reminded him too much of the star gazing he did back in_ Fix-it Felix Jr_ or _Turbo Time._

"It's nice out tonight, ain't it?"

The racer froze instantly at the ever-dreaded and cautious murmur to the handyman's quiet voice. He growled softly and turned away, hoping Felix would get the point and hit the road.

"We're in a programmed land with the same climate temperature every night. Yes, it's nice out, Fix-it. And it isn't even night time." He rolled his eyes. "Damn idiot."

The insult didn't touch the handyman. Or if it did, he didn't react to it at least. He was determined to reach out to the racer, having been able to sense the building emotion and tension in him for the past several days. Everyone else did too, but no one knew the retro racer like Felix did.

It was easy for people to assume Turbo's unhappiness was because of the link, his glitch, and the fact he wasn't able to revert back to his old, sinister ways and hack into other games. Felix knew him better, and to the heart. He was able to sense the true pain Turbo felt was so perfectly concealed, and after weeks of being too timid to approach him, the handyman was doing so tonight.

"What are you doing out here so late?"

"I should be asking you the same thing," Turbo responded coldly. The last thing Turbo wanted to deal with in his mindset was a lecture from the old square. "I thought I told you and your stupid friends earlier that Vanellope wants to be alone."

"I...just wanted to talk to you."

"Well, talk then." The tone was so ice cold it made the handyman shiver and only served as a further, painful reminder that the Turbo he was talking to now was no longer his fun loving, and even compassionate best friend.

The handyman bit his lip. He had rehearsed the speech in his head thousands of times before, and yet nothing seemed to come to mind as he stared into the cold, eyes, as if he was looking at a stranger. "Th-there's something bothering you," Felix murmured. "Why won't you talk to me?"

The racer's lips peeled back in an annoyed snarl as he turned to him. "Implying that I've actively talked to you about all my troubles everyday?"

"Of course not," Felix responded with a harsh sigh. "But dang it, Turbo, that's what we used to do."

"The past and the present are not the same things," was the cold, withering response. "Now beat it."

"No." Felix's timid and quivering blue eyes hardened sternly as he adamantly planted his feet firmly into the ground. "I refuse to go anywhere. There's been something bothering you, brother."

The racer let out a scornful laugh and turned to the handyman, golden teeth bared in anger, pain evident in his eyes. "Oh, you're right, Fix-it. There is something bothering me. Did your 'friendly intuitions' pick up on it?"

The sarcasm was painfully dripping from every word, but Felix pushed it aside, desperate to help. "Please just tell me what's wrong. I want to help."

The racer gave another cold laugh. "Oh, do you? What changed this? As I recall, you could never be bothered to help me back when I was still plugged in. You always turned me away!"

Felix recoiled as if he had been slapped across the face. His memories flashed back to all the times where he'd find the disconsolate racer on the balcony, where he always knew something was wrong with him. The two would sit on the railing talking for hours, until both souls were cleared.

Anger sparked in the handyman' chest.

"Why that's a bold-faced lie and you know it!"

"Oh, is it?" Among the hate, there was pain now as the racer advanced towards his former friend, his pale fists shaking. "And so all those times, where you just ignored me when I ranted about _Road Blasters?_ When you didn't even give a damn about how I felt?"

The handyman glared. "By golly, Turbo I did listen in the beginning! But all you cared about was that you weren't in the spot light anymore! You didn't even seem to care about Jet and Set and how they felt! It was all about you—just as it had always been!"

A snarl stretched the racer's features as his eyes went wild with rage. "I _did_ care about them!"

"Maybe in the beginning," Felix retorted, "but all I heard near the end was how you couldn't stand being second best to that game! You never mentioned the twins—not once! It got tiring having to listen to you ranting all the time."

Turbo gave a dry laugh. "It was tiring, was it? So I was just a nuisance to you? You didn't want to put up with me? You claim you were my 'best friend', but all you did was ignore me! I don't care if all I talked about was _Road Blasters_, how would you have felt if someone completely took your thunder?"

"Someone did!" Felix exclaimed. "You! But I never complained about the line up of coins on your game cabinet and kids waiting to play you. In fact, I was proud of you, like you should have been for _Road Blasters!_"

"You never supported me!" the racer all but spat. "My game may have taken most of your attention, but _Road Blasters_ took it all from me! I didn't get one coin—not one of those sniveling brats looked at me! You did nothing but turn me away! You can blame yourself for how I turned out!"

Felix knew at this point something had broken in his code, because the handyman felt something he never had before: rage.

"Oh, don't you _dare_ pin that on me!" the handyman shouted. "I admit, maybe I should have been more understanding as a friend, even if you were acting like a spoiled brat, but I am _not_ to blame for who you came to be! It is not my fault you turned into such...such a monster!"

Acid tears flooded into Felix's baby blue eyes as he trembled with suppressed sobs."I came over to help you! I wanted to talk to you, because despite everything, I still care!"

"You wanted to help?" Turbo's voice was trembling as well. From rage or anguish, he didn't know, but he wasn't able to control it. "Well when I tell you what's wrong _Fix-it,_ I doubt you'll feel as inclined to help me! So here it is!

"I never created a character named _King Candy! _I _killed_ the real king and orphaned his princess to get what I want! And I'm now forced to live with the child whose father I killed! I'm forced to watch, every day, as she regains more and more of her memories and is tormented by nightmares night after night! I'm forced to watch it all! I'm forced to _explain what I did to her!_"

There. It was out. He had said it. There was no going back now. He was panting, and his throat was clogged, tasting salt as the tears threatened him.

"You..." Felix was unable to even get out anything remotely intelligible for several seconds. "You monster... You...you killed a _baby girl's_ father? You killed Vanellope's father? You killed the real King Candy?"

"Say it and repeat it, Fix-it," Turbo snarled in grief. "It isn't going to make it any less true."

"How could you, you monster... How could you do such a thing to a sweet little baby girl like Vanellope?! I knew you had done unspeakable things, but this, Turbo..."

"It was all necessary!" the racer snapped.

"How?!" Felix practically wailed. "How was this necessary? How was _murder_ necessary?"

"It was necessary to remain the number one racer I should have been all along!"

Felix stared at the panting, grief ridden racer as he stood there hunched and practically snorting like a wild animal. Yet, despite the wildness, his crumpled posture looked more broken and childish.

"I don't believe this," Felix whispered as he backed up a few steps. "You sick son of a gun, I don't know you. I thought I did, I thought I'd still be able to see the Turbo I knew somewhere under that helmet, but I don't. I've lost you, Turbo! Jet and Set—we lost you before you put _Road Blasters_ and _Turbo Time_ out of order! I remember them coming to me, scared to death for you!"

"They never cared!" the racer practically screamed. "No one ever did! Not you, not them, and definitely not those snot nosed little kids that just left me for a better game! You all abandoned me!"

Felix was suddenly winded by the force of the distraught racer's push as he slammed him down on the ground. His ears were ringing, but he could still hear the scathing words as they sliced into his eardrums, and see the twisted look of hate.

"I'm _done_ with you! I'm done talking with you! Just get back to your halitosis ridden friend and your trophy wife _AND STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!"_

The handyman's vision was blurry with pain, but he could still see the retreating form of distorted white and red as he started walking away. For a moment, Felix just watched him leave, but then he realized it.

There had been some truth to Turbo's words, as painful as it was to realize. Watching him leave was what Felix had done all those broken days, thirty years ago. He had watched him leave without a second thought after endlessly raging about _Road Blasters_. He had watched him leave the night before Turbo made the fatal promise to do something about the game stealing his thunder. He had watched him leave, and he had never said a word. He never stopped him from falling.

Not this time.

"_No!"_

The handyman barely realized what he was doing as he suddenly lunged toward the racer and firmly grabbed his shoulder, yanking him around to face him. If completely breaking the racer and shattering his very soul was what it would take to get through to him, then Felix would do it.

"You listen to me!" the handyman practically snarled. "Nobody abandoned you! No one ever forgot about you—especially not the gamers! I was _there! _I was there to see the little kids crying when they found you were gone, their favorite game! I was there to hear them ask where _Turbo Time_ was! Not _Road Blasters_, _Turbo Time!_

"They didn't care if _Road Blasters_ had darned better graphics, they loved you! They loved you, and if you had just _held on_, you would have seen that! We aren't in the arcade to compete against one another, we're here for the kids! And you abandoned them! You lost it all, just because you wanted to be number one!

"I'm only saying this because despite all you've done, I still care! There will always be something better! There will always be a racing game with better graphics, or characters with better racing skills! There will always be better games! Y...you'll _never_ be number one!"

When they were friends, they had fights. Simple, no-future-harm squabbles that were normally resolved with a "cool guy" handshake at the end of the day (although Felix preferred to hug, much to Turbo's disdain).

Despite the love the racer had always felt for his best friend in the past, their fights never created a staggering impact on him, neither the handyman's kind words. Turbo just didn't get affected by them as deeply as Felix did.

Maybe part of it was how tough he was supposedly programmed to be, and maybe part of it was simply that, beyond the love Turbo once harbored for the friends he had, he had a stony heart and it was always corrupted.

Right now was a different story entirely. Turbo expected to feel a withering sense of hate at the little toothpick's audacity to talk to him like that, but what he felt was something entirely new, different, and foreign.

Broken. Utterly broken; the kind of emotion he felt when he watched his twins die, when he realized what he had done. The kind of emotion so archaic he didn't even think it'd ever exist to him anymore. He was shattered.

_You'll never be number one!_

Nothing hurt like this.

The cruel reality crashed down on the racer in waves, his facade of bravery shattering into tiny fragments at his feet. Felix was right. He wasn't number one.

He killed his friends and innocent people.

He turned on his best friend.

He murdered a child's father.

He was a damn glitch that couldn't even race anymore, which was all he ever stood for.

He wasn't number one.

He wasn't a winner.

He was a loser.

Something was wrong with him. The racer felt his entire body shake with the compressed sobs as he fought with everything in him to keep from breaking. The tears abashedly filled his eyes, and he couldn't stop them as his eyes met the pained eyes of his best friend. Felix's words played through his head,

_I say this because despite everything you've done, I still care!_

The tears fell.

If Turbo was even able to fabricate a response, there was no time to.

Just then, a quiet, glitching cough alerted the racer to the little girl standing several feet behind him.

He didn't know how long she had been there, but judging by the disbelieving look of horror and anguish on her face, she had heard every word.


	16. Chapter 14 - Let Love In

_(You think the last chapter was bad? This one will have you crying tears of blood. c; This is probably my favorite chapter by far, and it may be a while til the next chapter is posted. However, look for a side story to this, centered Turbo and all the racer (Vanellope too); "Daddy Daycare")_

* * *

_It was done. The bits and pieces of the go-kart were scattered across the ground, smashed into shattered fragments that couldn't be repaired. Honestly, Turbo thought it would have taken more effort to manipulate the wrecker, but he was weaker than he thought._

_Turbo decided to wait for the girl, where he'd have her right in the open. It didn't take long for the little glitch to crawl out of the secret entrance to the volcano._

_Her face was bright red and puffy from her recent cry, and as she knelt beside her shattered kart to see if any of it was salvageable, she only broke down again, shaking and glitching harshly._

"_Do we make our move now, sir?" Duncan whispered to the king. "Should we tase her?"_

_The racer shook his head "Look at her, she's finished. Just let me handle this one."_

_He came out from behind his hiding spot, his hands tucked behind his back as he watched the heartbroken munchkin weep. He tutted quietly to himself. She brought all this pain on herself. He was kind enough to let the ungrateful brat roam _Sugar Rush_ free; surely there was plenty to do other than racing._

_He approached the broken girl with a poisonous glint in his brown eyes as he slipped an arm around her._

_Against her control, Vanellope found herself turning slightly into the offered arm, most likely not even registering who was holding her and just needing comfort, even if it was from this sick, sick man._

"_Poor little glitch," Turbo purred quietly, a hand moving to stroke through her raven locks. "You've had quite the bad day now, haven't you?"_

_Watery, brown eyes stared up at him, pleading and confused, even as she practically clutched to him._

"_Why?" Vanellope choked brokenly. "Why do you hate me so much? I don't understand it!" The cruel king's mouth broke out into a smile._

"_I don't hate you," Turbo said simply. He grabbed the girl by her collar and jerked her up to his face. The fight all but beaten out of her, Vanellope didn't even struggle. "I hate what you _are,_" he hissed softly. There was so much more meaning to these words than what he said next,_

"_A glitch."_

* * *

All was deathly silent, but Turbo knew what had just transpired, what she had heard. There was no going back now. There was no sound other than the cobalt static riddling the child's form, a fever evident on her red face.

Of all the things he could say to her, this was his chosen first. "Pixie, what are you still doing awake?" he scolded lightly.

A spectrum of blue littered the child's code as she glitched in anguish. The very look on her face, those wide, brown eyes screaming his betrayal, and the pain... It was too much to bear, cleaving right through his heart.

"You...didn't create King Candy," Vanellope said. There was no emotion in her voice. Her face, twisted in agony seconds ago, was vacant and almost calm. "He wasn't a character you made with your code skills."

The defeated racer didn't say a word, and the child repeated it, to try and reassure herself that this nightmare wasn't real. She'd prefer that horrible dream over this. Nothing was worse than this.

"You didn't create King Candy. He was my father..."

Finally, Turbo found his voice. "Pixie," he began in hushed desperation. "Pixie, listen to me." The grieving child stormed closer, her teeth grinding in rage.

"He was my father, the real king. You took him." The haunting monotone in her voice gave off to anger. "You took him!"

The racer opened his mouth so say something, but a further explosion from the little girl caused him to wince.

"You've been lying to me, all this time! You've been lying to me! All this time, when I thought you've actually started to care about me—everything you've done is just out of guilt!"

"No!" Turbo burst out. "No, it isn't like that! Vanellope, _please _just-"

"NO!" the child screamed. She backed up, gripping her ears. "No, I'm not listening to you! You're just a bad guy!" She shook her head in anguish and disbelief as if thinking if she did it hard enough all the bad stuff that was currently happening would bounce right out of her mind.

"You're a bad guy!" the child shouted, fixated on the stinging words. "A bad guy! I-I should never have saved you! Ralph was right, I should have just left you there! "

The retro racer didn't say anything at this point, deciding it best if he just let the pixie vent out her hatred to him. With every scream and spat out insult her body flickered and twitched more and more. Every cry that tore from the child's throat dragged Turbo deeper and deeper into his own personal hell.

The hatred had faded from Vanellope's watery eyes, and a look of terror washed over them instead. Turbo couldn't explain how it affected him.

He remembered there was a time when he relished in the fear he invoked in the girl. He remembered smirking with sadistic glee every time the weak child backed away and lowered like a scolded puppy. He knew there used to be a _time_ where he loved frightening her, and now it was hard to believe that time ever existed.

She backed away several steps, swallowing hard to keep from throwing up again. "You're not a bad guy," she finally whispered. Her teeth bared as the venomous tears stung her eyes. "You're evil! You're evil, and that's all you'll ever be!"

The sick girl turned and bolted away from him.

"No!" Turbo shouted, scrambling in the candy grass to try and catch up with her. "Vanellope! Vanellope, come back!" He barely made it five steps before the exhaustion of tonight's ordeal caught up with him, and the racer went slamming into a chocolate mud puddle.

Felix slid his eyes shut in misery, opening one tear filled baby blue to gaze down at the broken shell that was once his best friend. Turbo lay there in the mud, his body shaking as he panted heavily, head limp as he simply gave in to the crushing defeat of his emotions.

"You're right, Felix," Turbo finally whispered. His watery, golden eyes slid up to him, radiating the depths of pain and the true humanity in them. He gave the handyman a broken, defeated smile. "I am a monster."

Felix didn't even think before he acted, reaching down and offering his hand, like it was any other day back in _Turbo Time_. The gesture said more than either of them realized, and the pale hand gripped his for the first time in thirty years.

Turbo slowly and shakily rose as he was helped to his feet. His grip on his friend's hand didn't even loosen. Instead, Felix saw something new in his eyes, opened to the window of his soul as he pushed aside his pride and stubbornness, and reached out.

_Help me...please... I can't do this on my own._

Further tears flooded down the handyman's rosy cheeks and he gave his old friend's hand a final squeeze, before letting go. "You aren't a monster, brother. If you were, none of what Vanellope said would have even affected you."

"And what difference does that make?" the racer asked with a resigned sigh. "So what if I'm not who I used to be? It doesn't mean that I can change what I did. I can't bring the king back...I've tried."

Felix blinked. "You...you have?"

"Yes," Turbo murmured in a hushed tone. "The little pixie and I visited the codes regularly when we created the _Hot Chocolate Hot Spa_, and I always took the time she was preoccupied to search for even a remaining sliver of King Candy's code, but I never found anything.

"If the game does have any remaining memory, it's hidden well. The only real shot I have at bringing him back is to re-create him in the Avatar Creator." He shook his head. "But I won't be able to re-create his memories. Vanellope would spend the rest of her life trying to convince this character that they used to know each other and I...can't do that to her."

Turbo flinched at the gentle touch of his best friend's hand on his shoulder, but he didn't turn around to face him in fear of breaking again.

"You're right, you can't bring back her father," Felix said, not lifting his hand from the smaller one's shoulder. "So you have to do the next best thing."

"And what would that be?"

"Fill the void."

At that, Turbo _did_ whirl to the handyman, shock evident on his face as he stared into Felix's gentle and yet somber eyes. "What? Fill the...? I can't—I have no idea how."

"No, you're right." Felix gave a little giggle, his cheeks pink in the way they always were when he laughed. "You don't know the first thing, but all you really need to know is how to let love into your heart."

Any other day the racer would probably have vomited right on the spot, or at least turn his face up. This time he merely paused and stared at the handyman. "Fix-it, she doesn't need me. For one, she hates me, and she's already attached herself pretty well to you."

"Maybe so," the handyman agreed, "But I can't be here for her all the time, brother. I have my own game, where you, on the other hand, live here and you're linked to her. That's the highest form of a bond there is. Plus, by golly, you were coded into the man that _was _her father!"

"Oh yes!" Turbo laughed scornfully, "And what a terrific one I was, imprisoning her, demoralizing her, and—oh yes—trying to kill her!"

"Maybe now is the perfect time to make up for all your wrong doing."

"Perhaps," the racer grunted. He stumbled as his code aggressively flickered, which indicated the child was getting further. "First we need to find her."

* * *

Vanellope wasn't even sure where she was at this point. It was funny, because she knew _Sugar Rush_ like the back of her hand, and yet, somehow, she was utterly lost.

She didn't even know where she was going when she started running. In fact, she didn't even realize she was running until she felt the dizziness from the fever and the spasms of blue from her glitching. Her mind didn't even have a say in it, because her body just told her to _run._ _Leave._

Now somehow, the pixie was in the middle of tangled, red and white striped trees. She didn't even know where the entrance began, and where it ended. The candy structures dimmed the game's artificial lighting, which the child was grateful for. Nobody would be able to see the mask of tears on her face in the darkness.

All the little pixie could see when she opened her eyes was her father; from his round, pink nose to the chocolate eyes mirroring her own, that twinkled whenever he smiled. With every blink and every tear there was a new memory, and a new crack in her heart. The link was just flooding her mind with them.

_Papa..._ The name felt weird to imagine, and she licked her lips and tried it out on her tongue. "Papa..."

She, the unwanted, useless glitch had someone before these ten years of abuse and neglect. Knowing she'd never get him back just carved a permanent hole in her heart. For a moment, Vanellope forgot that the children of her game were orphans to begin with, and just felt more alone and frightened than she ever had. A lost, fatherless child in a familiar world that she suddenly didn't understand.

Vanellope wasn't sure what she was supposed to do now. Her entire body was throbbing from the recent glitches, but they weren't happening as often anymore. Realizing this meant Turbo and most likely Felix weren't far, the pixie stood back up and stumbled out of the sticky forest.

* * *

"Driving?! Brother, are you sure you can do that?"

Turbo was already in his car and revving up the engines. Part of the racer wanted to laugh hysterically, part of him wanted to slap the handyman for such nerve, and most of him realized that Felix's concerns were justified.

"I'm honestly not sure, Fix-it." Turbo gave a short laugh. "I never thought I'd say that, but you've seen my driving lately."

On the candy roads, this would be the real deal. There were no innocent, jello molds to break the impact of a crash (most of what were around these parts of the land were jawbreakers and hard cookies sticking out of the ground), or marshmallows or anything remotely soft. Mostly around these parts, especially as they ventured further towards the _Ice Cream mountains_, were nothing but cliffs.

"You glitch and it will be game over, Turbo," Felix said, his expression tight. "Have you managed to control the glitching yet?"

"Nope," the racer said, his foot inches away from the gas pedal. He didn't pay heed to any danger he was putting himself in (and inadvertently, the child as well). "Vanellope is sick and I'm getting to her. I'd never be able to reach her quick enough on foot."

"Yes, you have seemed to...chub out a little over these thirty years," the handyman giggled. "It must be all the candy." Turbo's mouth twitched upward slightly, in the way it did years ago when ever he and Felix playfully went at each other.

"Yer lucky I'm too busy to kill you for that remark right now." He was prepared to step down on the gas, but the annoying little toothpick again interrupted him.

"Wait! Now where in the world am I supposed to sit? By golly, you weren't thinking of leaving me behind, were you?"

"Well what's your suggestion?" Turbo scoffed. "My _lap?_"

The handyman huffed indignantly, his lip jutted out into a pout. "No, but I sure am coming! I've looked after that little girl too, you know. You better find a way to take me along."

The racer's yellow eyes slid over to a patch of lollipop trees and back at Felix. The worried handyman felt an unsettling flutter in his stomach when his friend smirked.

* * *

Games sustained plenty of damages during arcade hours, especially racing ones. There were always breaks in the cookie road from where cars slammed into them, and plenty of splintered fences from where racers went off the cliffs.

Damages that seemed to be catastrophic were only trivial, easily build-able losses for the racers. All games looked like they were broken code by code by the time the end of hours swung around, and all games were able to mend themselves in the time most of the arcade was asleep.

Usually by this time, Vanellope would be asleep, as well. She had never been awake to watch the game do its normal, programmed clean up. The re calibrating process caused more snow than usual to fall to cover the now-bare roads at _Ice Cream Mountain_.

Vanellope was cold. Freezing, actually. Her entire body was numb with every pain a person could feel, but she didn't even care. Her thin, pink nightgown and fuzzy slippers provided little warmth against the frigid temperatures, but the child didn't care if she did freeze to death out there. Nothing mattered to the pain-stricken girl.

Vanellope continued on, trying to remember the last time she _walked_, not _drove_ somewhere, least of all so far, and finding herself drawing a blank. She barely walked anywhere anymore unless it was out of _Sugar Rush_. She hadn't even done that since linking herself to..._him._

She had ruined her own life, for a murderer that didn't even appreciate any of what she had done for him. She had given _everything_ up for him, just to give the villain a second chance. To think she actually grew to _care_ about him.

The weary and emotionally drained child hiccuped out a half sob and stumbled into the snow. The ground underneath her feet felt harder and slicker, but she ignored it, unaware of the danger she was putting herself in.

_Papa, I'm so tired..._

The child had never felt as exhausted as she did now. Exhausted and heartbroken—nothing, not a day being a rejected glitch compared to what she was feeling now. She just wanted to curl up right there in the snow and shut her eyes. Perhaps it'd do Turbo a favor to end _both_ their lives.

* * *

There was nothing definitive to say where Vanellope was, but somehow, Turbo knew he was close. Whether it was the link telling him, or some sort of intuition, he knew he was going to find her, even with how big _Sugar Rush_ was.

"How ya doing back there, Fix-it?" The racer peered back at his best friend, unable to keep a grin from surfacing as the handyman gave him a deadpan scowl from where he was standing on top of a lollipop tied to the back of the go-kart, and clinging to a licorice rope like he would be if he was water skiing.

"Do you see her?" the handyman asked. They were nearing the dairy mountains and Felix could already feel the cold snow melting through his shirt.

"She _better_ not be here. The stupid child is in a little nightgown and slippers, and if she was stupid enough to come into an ice cream tundra in her condition, I'll..."

All of a sudden, to the horror of both the racer and his tag-along, his code began to flicker, which caused both the car and handyman to flicker as well. They were coming up to a narrow passage, right next to a cliff.

"Brother, come on. You can get control of this, you can!" Felix's words of encouragement were mixed with horrified pleas. If Turbo sent them over the cliff, it would be the permanent death of both the racer, himself, and Vanellope.

The racer was panicking at the bitter and frightening deja-vu. He was at the same cliff he almost went over last time, and this time, Vanellope wasn't there so save him. He tried to remember the training the pixie had taught him.

_Tell yourself it's all in your head and it will be all in your head._ The static was trying to corrupt his vision, but all the racer kept thinking of was the lives that would be lost if he didn't succeed. He snarled and gripped the steering wheel tightly against the pain, gritting his teeth as the corrupted coding screeched in his ears.

He got his vision back only seconds before plummeting into an endless fall. Turbo violently swerved the car to the side, causing Felix to shriek and tighten his hold on the candy ropes as he nearly went flying into the abyss.

The danger passed, the two friends shared a look of astonishment and nearly whooped for joy when they realized what happened. He did it! He caught the glitch before it led them to their death!

The joy was short lived, because just then, Turbo saw the flash of a candy-dirtied, raven ponytail in the short distance, and standing exactly where he feared.

"VANELLOPE!"

Turbo slammed on the brakes and completely ignored how it caused poor Felix (who hadn't even re-cooperated from nearly dying) to go flying into an icy snowbank.

Turbo bolted from his car and started to scale up the mounds of ice cream off the side of the track to reach the little girl before it was too late. Felix dizzily made his way out of the bank and followed—only to wind up slipping into a patch of soft ice cream, which clung to him like molasses.

"Fix-it!"

"I'll be fine!" the handyman assured, repressing a shudder from the cold cream lapping at his legs. "Get Vanellope!"

Vanellope had seen him by now judging by the look of rage and betrayal that sprung up on her face. She backed up a few steps, her look of hate never wavering. She was this close to turning around and running the other way, and Turbo knew it.

"Pixie, please don't move!" Turbo exclaimed, taking another cautious step toward her. "You don't want to get hurt!"

"Is that a _threat?"_ the nine year old spat at him. He flinched and shook his head.

"No, it's not! Vanellope—don't!"

The child turned and ran the other way, her slippers slapping against the cold ground as she ran. She had only made it a few feet before the sound Turbo was dreading split the air: The thundering crack of breaking ice.

Right away the ice caved in slightly at the middle, right where the terrified girl was standing. Her wide, brown eyes shot up to stare at the racer, who appeared to be just as terrified as she was.

Had the increased snow not covered the rink and its damages, Vanellope may not have stepped on the _Frozen Lemonade Lake_. It was generally harmless and sturdy—provided it got its repairs from repeated damages through races. The battered rink was only able to take so much before it broke, and when it did, no one should be on it.

Vanellope's breath quickened in panic as she watched the ice cave in more under her. Icy lemonade oozed out of the cracks and seeped through her slippers, freezing and stinging her feet.

"P...Papa..." the girl murmured blearily, barely coherent from fear. "Pa-PAPA, HELP ME!"

"Shh-shh! Easy, easy, Munchkin!" the desperate racer tried to soothe. "Just don't move suddenly—walk as lightly as you can toward me and get away from the middle. It'll be okay, kid..."

In response, the tearful fear was again replaced with hostility as the girl backed up. This caused the ice to crack more, splitting under her feet.

Turbo bit his lip. "Vanellope, please! I know you hate me, but you have to trust me! You have to come over here!" He shot Felix a desperate look.

"Fix-it, she won't come to me! She'll only come to you!"

The handyman's blue eyes were wide with terror as he watched the helpless little girl cower against the crumbling ground. "T-Turbo, I can't!" He whimpered and struggled against the ice cream's hold, but it was to no avail. "I'm stuck! I can't reach her from here!"

Hair-line cracks continued to slowly split up the ice, inching toward the girl. With nothing else to do, Turbo bolted from the spot he was standing in.

Vanellope was terrified, shaking and gasping, her tiny feet dancing in pain from the unbearable coldness as more of the liquid oozed around her. "Papa!" she cried again. "Papa, please!"

The splitting ice abruptly dropped even lower still, looming over the liquid. Vanellope had all but entirely caved into the frigid beverage. She screamed and let out a whimper of terror.

"VANELLOPE!"

The sight would be ludicrous if it was in any other situation; Turbo was practically hanging upside down from an icicle tree, his arms outstretched to the child. The girl looked up at him.

There was nothing but pure desperation in the racer's eyes as he held his arms out to the traumatized little pixie. The look on the normally hateful face was practically pleading with her, almost looking near tears.

"Vanellope, _please,_" Turbo begged. "You _have_ to jump up to me! You're running out of time!" A louder crack confirmed that. "Please—jump up and I'll grab you!"

The shaking girl stood there.

"I promise..."

_Crack._

"Trust me..."

It happened in a series of climactic moments; the girl took a leap towards the branch just as the final crack broke the ice entirely. Turbo reached out and barely managed to get a hold of her arm, dangling the terrified pixie over the flooding lake to a cold demise.

Turbo yanked the child into his arms and pulled her in close as the girl instantly clung, watching as the spot she had been standing on flooded entirely until the ice could no longer be seen.

Shakily, Turbo slid down the tree with the girl and dropped into the ice cream banks. Vanellope was like an icicle in his arms, and Turbo had to check several times to make sure he had the child and not an ice cube instead. She shivered and chattered incessantly, face pasty white.

Hurriedly, Turbo made his way over to Felix and dug him out. The handyman grabbed onto his friend's sleeve as the retro racer lifted him out.

Turbo half expected the child in his arms to leap into Felix's the moment he was free, but the little munchkin only kept tightly clung to him, her frozen arms around his neck.

"Oh, the poor little baby," Felix gasped softly. He shrugged off his blue vest, leaving only a thin t-shirt underneath, and gave it to Turbo to wrap around the little girl.

"Foolish child," the racer muttered as he swaddled the little one, feeling her pink, cold nose touch his neck. "Out in the freezing cold in a little nightgown, what were you thinking?" Then again, this was the child that just found out her father was killed. Perhaps she wasn't even thinking.

"We better get her out of this cold," Felix suggested, shivering from the snow on his all-but bare back. "And get her in something warm and dry."

* * *

They were by the fireplace now, which Turbo had forgotten this castle even had. Vanellope was blanketed in his lap and in a new, minty and fuzzy gown.

Felix had thankfully taken the child when they got her home. He changed the frozen girl into warm pajamas and even splashed warm water on her beforehand; doing all the fatherly things Turbo was not yet comfortable doing. He left after giving both of them a hug, to give Turbo some time with the girl.

The racer was wrapped up in the same blanket Vanellope was, feeling the cold ache in his bones dissolve from the soothing warmth of the fire. He looked down at the girl, who had been silent since Felix gave her to him.

Those chocolate flecks were wiped from all happiness. Not a shred remained.

Turbo briefly ran a pale hand through her damp, black locks. The child made no movement to the touch.

"...I remember curling up by this fireplace before," Vanellope said softly, brokenly. "I remember Papa and I curling up under this same blanket and drinking cocoa."

It was nearly the exact same picture with the gentle racer holding the girl, their sweet beverages only a few inches away from them.

"And even though I know you feel guilty, I didn't even think you'd go this far as to do what...he did."

"I'm not doing this out of guilt," came Turbo's quiet murmur. He stared sadly down as the ill girl looked tearfully up at him. "I...I'm doing it because..." He quieted.

The heartbroken, quiet little child leaned into his chest. Her tiny hand ran its fingers over the front of his jump suit as one of his pale hands cupped her head to his chest.

"Tell me about my father." Further tears spilled down those flushed cheeks and drenched his uniform. She snuggled in deeper, a shudder racking her tiny body. "What was he like?"

The racer's voice came out low in sadness, exhaustion, and defeat. "He was the kindest man you could ever know. He loved everyone and anything, and was always there when someone needed him."

His mind flashed back to that fateful day, when he met the man and the kindness King Candy had always shown sealed his future fate.

"He treated everyone like family," Turbo went on. "He'd never leave anyone alone. He was the silliest man you'd ever meet, always making up songs and ridiculous puns. He hardly ever called you Vanellope; it always seemed to be some candy related nickname."

A shudder rippled the munchkin's form as another round of tears spilled down her cheeks. "Did he love me?"

"Yes..."

Turbo glanced down, wishing he hadn't as his golden eyes met the watery, and heartbroken ones filled with enough pain to cleave through anyone's heart.

"How much?"

Turbo sat back against the wall with the young pixie and stared off into the distance, wondering how he could articulate just how much her father had loved her. After brief consideration, he decided he'd phrase it in a way King Candy would have.

"You were...the sun and the moon to him. You were every star in the sky. Everything he ever did in his life revolved around how much he loved you. In the end, he sacrificed himself for you. He was the reason I kept you alive. I promised him...that I would."

He hoped the girl wouldn't question his lapse in his promise when he was willing to take her life on the track, but thankfully, the child was much too distraught to think of it.

Sounds of resonating nostalgia went through the tired and sick child's mind. Glitches riddled her weak code as she looked back up at the racer. "Did there...used to be...something he'd say to me a lot?"

The rhyme. Turbo exhaled a shuddering sigh and gave a nod. "Yes...there used to be a rhyme." He gazed down into her yearning, tear brimming eyes and brushed a bang back from her damp and warm face. "You want me to say it to you, don't you..."

A beat, and then she quietly bobbed her head.

It was beyond him why he didn't protest. "I like you more than the stars and the moon," Turbo began.

Vanellope situated herself in his arms so that she was in a more comfortable position, like a little baby being lulled to sleep.

"I love you more than the sweetest cupcake and ice cream with a silver spoon," Turbo continued. He looked down at the child, his heart wondering if there was some truth to these words. "And as long as we're together, this love will never stop."

The child was quiet now, the memories beginning to strike her. She looked up as Turbo brushed more bangs behind her ears.

"No matter what we go through, we'll come through..."

"...Like a cherry on top," Vanellope finished with a whisper. Her eyes were drooping, as she was seconds away from giving in to sleep. "I went for so long without anyone caring about me...sometimes it's..." She broke off with a yawn. "Sometimes it's hard to remember what it means to love somebody..."

Turbo could tell by the soft and congested breathing that the pixie was asleep. He laid his head back against the cushion, his own lids falling heavy.

"Love is what King Candy felt for you," he told the sleeping child. Memories flashed, when he watched King Candy give his life for Vanellope. "It means to...sacrifice yourself just to save the person that's close to you..." He exhaled softly and shut his eyes, his cheek bobbing against the pixie's.

"Or maybe...it's when you risk going off a cliff for them, and spending your night..holding and calming them, and letting her fall asleep in your arms."


	17. Chapter 15 - Hold On To The Memories

_(First of all, as gothicorca1895, author of the famous "Ghost Boy" has stated this in her fic, I will too. Guys, we know each other. Actually, we're like best friends. Have been for nearly three years now. I'm really shocked no one figured that out without us telling. XD We have some of the same names in our stories-"Pajama Boy", she got from me, "Jet and Set" I got from her, and some of the same ideas despite our drastically different fics. _

_In fact, "Ghost Boy" derived from a role play we decided to test out for fun which became the soul of all our role playing, and eventually "Ghost Boy". Not to say she doesn't have some pretty damn original ideas we didn't RP, but at this point in our roleplays we have a universe slightly different from "Ghost Boy" that slightly ties half into "It's Only Programmed". It's hard to explain. But you might see some of that stuff on my fic's tumblr at one point anyway._

_Anyway, I'd like to also mention gothicorca1895 came up with the extension to King Candy's lullaby, and I'll pretty much say she owns that lullaby since I made only the first line. It's adorable, I gotta put in the entire thing at one point._

_This chapter is the one that shows just how far Turbo and Vanellope have come. Enjoy~)_

* * *

_Darkness. Turbo always wondered what it felt like to sell your soul, to let nothing but your rage and hate consume you and lead you down the path of destruction – that unknowingly to the racer at the time – would be the course of his life for the next thirty years._

_Darkness felt good. Emotions, pity, and sadness were for the weak. You didn't win by being _weak_._

_Whirring down the circuits and nearing his destination, the racer launched himself into_Road Blasters_, ramming one of the cars violently off the road. It instantly regenerated._

_"Turbo-tastic!" he shouted gleefully, watching with sadistic pleasure as the car crashed again and again, exploding into orange embers and regenerating._

_"Turbo-tastic!" This time he full on collided with the player's car, but something went wrong. The pigments of colors in the game began to distort and the static in his ears was deafening. Pain stabbed and ripped at his every pixel, causing the racer to suppress a scream of agony when he knew something had gone terribly wrong._

_"Turbo-t-stt-stt-chtt-chtt-!" His own voice was distorted, unable to get out his usual catch phrase. The glitching of the game caused even his throat to throb._

_Suddenly, Turbo was pressed against the screen to_Road Blasters'_cabinet, only able to stare in horror as Litwak bent down to the power bar. Turbo wasn't even able to get out a cry when the screen across from him, his game, went completely black as the terrified, huddled forms of Jet and Set flickered away like a television being shut off._

_Somehow the racer was able to see – as if he was in the game himself – as his older brothers watched with horror as their bodies began to disappear into miniscule, colored specks, which were sucked away into a vortex. He watched their mouths open, but whatever they shouted was drowned out by his own scream that had nothing to do with the pain in his pixels._

_"NO!"_

* * *

Soothing notes muddled out the screech of static and disintegrating coding as the world around Turbo faded. His hysterics began to slowly cease; his pain was seized and taken away by the gentle melody emanating from somewhere in his mind.

The voice was incredibly familiar.

_"In a field of gumdrop flowers, past the chocolate river of dreams..."_

Turbo opened his tear filled eyes, the blurred orbs focusing on the little girl in front of him. His vision was cleared as tiny hands reached up and brushed against his eyes, her little fingers trailing down his pale cheeks to wipe the tracks that were there.

The child was still softly humming the lyrics he recognized to be King Candy's lullaby.

"_There's a place where peace is plenty, and where love is as it seems..._

_We'll go there, my sugarplum, we'll go there me and you..."_

Yep, that was definitely King Candy's lullaby. There was no one else Turbo knew that was able to produce such nauseating lyrics. The racer slowly sat up in the bed, peering curiously at the child.

"Vanellope?"

The pixie smiled at him, gentleness in her brown eyes. Her cheeks were less red, indicating the fever she had was beginning to go down. "Rise and shine, Pajama Boy." She bit her tongue, suppressing a light giggle. "Well, not really. It's only five in the morning."

"What are you doing here?"

Her shoulders rose and fell briefly as she smiled at him. "Well, you were thrashing and crying so much I wouldn't have been able to sleep if I tried. And well, you've been there for me for all my recent nightmares. I thought I'd come and return the favor."

She had moved closer to him, but Turbo didn't even notice that or the second part of her sentence as he stared at her. "I was doing _what_ in my sleep?"

"Crying," Vanellope answered quietly. She looked up at him, concern in her large brown eyes; Concern for a monster like him. "I saw it all—every part of your nightmare."

Turbo exhaled a deep sigh and wiped away the remaining dew in his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried over their deaths, if he ever even had. He was probably too far gone to shed tears after it happened, and for the most part, he had all but entirely locked away his memories of Jet and Set over these years.

"So that's how it happened?" the pixie whispered. "You didn't even have time to say good-bye?"

A painful lump formed in the racer's throat as he tried to swallow. Tears threatened to sting his eyes again as he somehow warbled out a response. "No, Munchkin. I never had time to say good-bye. I..." He cleared his throat to try and regain some composure. "I haven't thought about them in a long time..."

"You miss them," Vanellope confirmed.

The tears were harder to keep at bay with the nightmare and the ordeal from yesterday still hanging over his memory. He missed Jet and Set, his brothers, his friends; one of the only few people he would now admit without hesitation that he had loved. They had died because of him, and there was no way for him to honor their memory.

These years in the arcade hadn't been flawless. There had been the rare tragedies where characters had died outside their games, which would usually lead to the unplugging of a game. Not much could ever be done. There wouldn't be any bodies to bury—the moment a character died for real they'd be deleted from the game's codes.

Mourning of course was felt for these characters, but although there could be some sort of ceremony sometimes held in _Game Central Station_, and a plaque of memory on the wall, there was nothing that could really commemorate a character.

Turbo had hidden himself for years, away from everyone, hanging low in Game _Central Station_, but he knew a lot of what went on during those years. No one wanted to remember anything about _Turbo Time_, because of him. Felix, bless his heart, was the only one that wanted to have something hosted in memory of the twins, and so a plaque was made for them as well, although there was little mourning.

But Turbo should have been there. These characters, his brothers, died because of him and he above all should have been the one mourning in front of their plaques. Not Felix.

There was nothing Turbo could do about the past or about his twins, but there was something he could do to at least provide Vanellope with a little bit of closure. The girl deserved to say good-bye to her father, and King Candy did deserve to be honored.

"I'm fine now, Pixie," Turbo told the girl. "Why don't...why don't we just get to sleep? I think we both need it."

Vanellope laid her head down on his marshmallow pillow without asking, as he laid beside her without a fuss, staring into her brown eyes.

"I think...they'd be proud of you."

Turbo swallowed. "Who?"

"Jet and Set...and Papa."

If the racer wasn't still so shaken and upset, he would have burst out laughing. Instead, his laugh was mixed with a half sob. "Do state your reasons for this, Munchkin."

"Well..." She flopped onto her back, as if deep in thought. After a moment she gave him a slight smile. "Because even though you used to be an evil dictator, you're changing. You're...different now. We go to the codes all the time, and you even go by yourself sometimes, but you never try anything. I know how much Papa loved me, and I know all he'd want is for someone to love me like he did."

Vanellope looked down. "It's going to be hard to forgive you for what you did...but I made a decision when I first found you." She pushed herself onto her elbows. "I told myself that I would forgive you and I'd forget everything you did – _everything_ – as long as you were willing to change."

She smiled at the racer and laid back down, her pink nose touching his. "I know you're trying. I'll try too..." Her little fingers entwined with his. "I promised you I'd help you, and that's not changing." She yawned and shut her eyes, still gripping his hand.

"I made a promise too," Turbo murmured, watching the child as her breathing became deep. "And I'm not about to break that promise."

* * *

Turbo wasn't seen at all the next day. He was absent from all meals, and he was nowhere to be found in the castle. Vanellope knew he was obviously somewhere close by in_Sugar Rush_, but she couldn't find a trace of him. Sour Bill was clueless on the racer's where-a-bouts as well.

Even when evening rolled around and the gang had come to visit _Sugar Rush_, Turbo was still nowhere to be found.

"He probably rightfully fears I'll beat his little helmet into his head," Ralph growled as he sat there brooding with the rest of his friends. "He'd be a pile of pixel-pieces right now if you two weren't linked."

"Ralph, why are you the one that's upset?" Vanellope asked quietly. "It was _my_ father."

"And that's exactly my point! It was _your_ Dad!"

Felix had told Ralph what had happened with Turbo and Vanellope the night he came back. He wanted to make sure the time he told the wrecker and the time he saw Turbo was far enough in between that Ralph wouldn't thoughtlessly annihilate the racer the moment he saw him.

"Just drop it," Vanellope sighed. "I told myself that I wouldn't hold Turbo's past against him when I first decided to try and change him. That's not changing just 'cause I got some new info..."

"I don't care if you don't want to hold his past to him or not!" Ralph snapped. "The guy is a _monster_, Vanellope! We need to find a way to break that link so we can dispose of him! I don't want him anywhere near you!"

"He isn't a monster!" the child huffed "He...he is trying to be better, and I made a promise. I'm not breaking my promise. You told me you'd _trust_ me."

"I do," Ralph sighed. "I'm just worried about you. He's hurt you in the past and I don't want him to hurt you again."

The pixie smiled and gently pet one of his beefy hands in gratitude. "I know, Ralphie, but I'll be okay."

Felix smiled and reached over to take the child, and pull her into his arms. The girl laid her cheek against his chest.

"I'm proud of you, Vanelley," he told the little girl, grazing a hand gently through her raven hair. "You're a brave girl for giving Turbo a chance; even after all he's done...especially..."

"Yeah, I know," the pixie sighed, a grating growl to her voice. She didn't want to be reminded of...what he had done. "You believed in him, even when no one else did. I figure...I could try to believe too."

The handyman brushed his gloved fingers through the girl's raven hair and smiled. "I've known him like no one else has. Why, we were practically brothers. He was...well, I won't say kind," Felix giggled. "He was a rascal, but had you known him then you'd never think he'd be this...evil dictator in the future."

The handyman gazed down at the little girl, his heart breaking at her expression. No child should have to go through all this pain and confusion. Vanellope was only nine. She was supposed to be enjoying life. Her only concerns were supposed to be racing and having fun, not housing and rebuilding the life of an old villain, or wondering what nightmare was going to come and plague her the next night.

Felix clutched the girl to his chest in the fatherly embrace he always loved giving her, and hoped that Turbo would as well one day. "Oh darlin'...you're too young to have to go through stuff like this."

The soulful look in the child's eyes disappeared as she grinned and gave the handyman's cheek a gentle pat. "Aw, come on, Felix! This is Vanellope yer talkin' to! You know, I was the _glitch_ for ten years? I've already been through more than a lot of people in this whole arcade has. Handling what I'm going through now is...is a cinch." It didn't take a sensitive ear to hear how her voice cracked at the end.

The handyman quietly rubbed the girl's back as she slowly slipped out of his lap. She blinked as she spotted Ralph's beefy hands reaching for the last slice of pie Felix had brought.

"Oh no you don't!" Before the wrecker could bring the sloppy, blueberry pie to his mouth, the child snatched it back, holding the drippy and gooey treat in between her two fingers. "If you want the last slice of pie, Garlic Breath, yer gonna haffta fight me for it!"

The wrecker stared down at the cheeky little munchkin, and back to the empty pie plate. The child-like grin on her face and the way she was playfully crouched with Vanellope happy again.

Spinning the pie plate dramatically on a finger, Ralph held it out in front of him as a defense. "You're going to have to fight your way through these iron...er, tin defenses, bite sized!"

Vanellope grinned and delivered a kick right through a candy cane, yanking it up into her hand. "Bring it on, Skunk man!"

* * *

Vanellope stepped out the entrance of the castle in a chocolate dress she thought she'd never wear. It had been a part of her wardrobe when the game reset, although the little president hardly gave them a passing glance. Puffy, princess dresses interfered with her driving.

"This is a dress I never thought I'd wear," the child snorted, pulling at the fabric. "What's the point of this again? What kind of event would require me to wear a dress?"

Turbo didn't respond. He had been secretive and quiet since he abruptly appeared after dinner, telling Vanellope he wanted to take her somewhere. He hadn't said where and only told her to put on a simple dress.

The child's suspicious brown eyes peered up at his somber face, and she tried again. "If I have to wear a dress for this, why haven't _you_ changed clothes?"

To Vanellope's relief, she coaxed a snarky smirk. "And what would I wear, one of your dresses, Pixie?"

"Sure," the child quipped with a smirk of her own. "I have a candy cane dress that would look just _ravishing_ on you. It'll compliment your pretty eyes." A giggle bubbled up as the racer scowled deeply at her, his eyes narrowed into angry slits.

Frankly, she'd rather see Turbo as his angry and mean self than look so melancholic.

The nine year old dashed to her car and opened the door, but the racer stopped her.

"Uh, Pixie... I think we should walk instead."

The girl nearly fainted there on the spot, her head snapping up to stare at the racer in astonishment. Was that Turbo in front of her, or an imposter? Of course, maybe by now he was aware of the danger if he raced and glitched.

"I thought you managed to control your glitching," Vanellope said. "You were so proud when you told me what happened when you went to find me..." Her voice hushed. "Th...that night."

"I have," the racer said, tugging her gently out of the car. His old-age smirk of arrogance came back. "And trust me, you'll be picking candy dust from your _teeth_ next time we race, but for now I want to talk to you. We can't do that if we're racing."

The child gave one last look at her car and shrugged, following him as they began the tedious journey down the castle road.

The whole objective to walking instead of driving to their destination was so they could talk, and yet Turbo found it hard to string together what he needed to say. The child stepped with him, glancing up now and then with growing impatience as he remained silent.

"Last night was the first time I can remember dreaming of Jet and Set, and I didn't realize until now how much I miss them." He cleared his throat painfully and exhaled shakily when his eyes began to faintly sting again.

"I locked up my memories when I was...King Candy. I didn't want to remember them."

Vanellope looked at him. "You mean you put a lock on them like you did with everyone in _Sugar Rush?_"

The racer chuckled slightly. "Something like that. I didn't actually use a real lock on my code, though. I mean I..._mentally_ locked them away. I forced myself not to remember them. If I did, I'd feel weakness, and for what I needed to do to take over your game...I couldn't have any weakness. So, I forced myself not to think of them and put a mental lock on my memories."

"Is there some kind of lock still on the memories of everyone here?" Vanellope asked. "Is that why no one remembers Papa?"

"No," Turbo said. "There was never another lock. Games have restore points, Pixie, where they can reset back to the point before an alteration occurred. After I made you into a glitch, I knew immediately that the game would reset back to the point right before your coding was corrupted, but no further.

"I ripped apart every shred of your father's code except for the avatar. That one I just connected with mine. There was nothing left of the old King Candy but...well, his skin, really." He bit his lip at his choice or words when he remembered Vanellope's nightmare. Feeling the girl tremble, he put a hand on her head.

"That wasn't enough to survive on its own after the impact of _Diet Cola Mountain_. The game couldn't regenerate your father because there was nothing _left_ to regenerate."

Vanellope let that explanation sink in for a moment, and let her head hang as bitter tears lined her eyelids. "I wish I never remembered."

Turbo stopped walking and turned to her. Pain filled brown eyes met softer golden ones.

"Can you teach me how to create a memory block?" the pixie asked. "How did you do it? Did you just force yourself to forget Jet and Set? Or did you only remember the bad stuff?" She took a deep breath and glowered at her shoes. "No matter how hard I try, I can't remember any bad stuff..."

After a moment of silence, Turbo crouched down in front of her. "Why do you want to forget?"

"Because he's not coming back!" Vanellope cried. "There's no way to get him back, so I don't want to remember him...because it hurts." She covered her face with her hands. Turbo pulled them away.

"Is that what you think you should do? Pixie..." He almost cringed, unable to believe this speech was coming from his mouth. "Pixie, the ones we love don't want us to forget them. They _want_ to be remembered, but they don't want anyone to mourn them. They want the life they had to be celebrated."

"But you blocked your memories," Vanellope reminded, wiping her eyes. "It sounds like that would have been so much easier."

"And it was, but it doesn't mean it was the right thing. It was bad enough I _caused_ the deaths of Jet and Set, but I didn't even mourn them. I just chose to throw them out of my life because that's what I thought was easy. Because my heart was so black I didn't think to care about them like I should have. Like they did with me..."

"...What color is it now?"

"What?"

"Your heart, what color is it now? Is it still black?"

Turbo stared into the child's wide, brown eyes, and at the tearful pout that had morphed into a soft and almost teasing grin. His lips turned up slightly.

"I don't know what color it is now, but I know it's not black."

* * *

Vanellope couldn't remember this passageway. Granted _Sugar Rush_ was huge and she probably hadn't seen _every_ inch of it, but this little path through the gumdrop bushes seemed close enough to the castle that she would have remembered being here.

"So this is where you've been all day?" the child inquired, tilting her head at Turbo. "You've been in the gumdrop bushes? What were you doing all day?"

The racer huffed and resisted the urge to shove the annoying girl onto the path and away from him. Instead, he hesitantly took her hand. Vanellope looked up at him.

Turbo didn't say anything and only tugged the child through the rustling, mint leaves, until they reached a clearing.

Beyond the bushes lay a plain populated with rows of rainbow, lollipop flowers that led up to a small hill, and what looked like a chocolate stone poking its head out of the cookie earth.

"Chocolate?" Vanellope joked, confused. "We ate already."

She followed the racer to the stone, and her breathing ceased for a moment as she examined it.

_In Memory Of King Candy, beloved King and Father._

Turbo had some expert carving skills. Everything, every letter scratched in the stone was so neat and professional. He had even carved the crown symbol underneath King Candy's name.

"You made this for him?" Vanellope whispered, her breath hitching as tears threatened her.

"No," Turbo said. He knelt next to the stone, smoothing a hand over the engravings. "I made this for you, to give you something I never had." He looked at her. "Closure."

"What?" the little girl asked, wiping her chocolate eyes.

"When I lost Jet and Set I never had a proper outlet for my grief. I never even allowed myself to feel grief or guilt in the first place." He laid a hand on the pixie's raven hair. " The only way anyone can move on is if they have some way to...close the door to that part of their past."

The child's trembling fingers grazed over the letters on the chocolate as her spare hand wiped away her tears. She smiled and laid her cheek against the headstone, feeling oddly at peace.

Turbo knelt next to her for several moments, the two sitting in silence as they remembered King Candy's life.

There were so many things Turbo wondered about, had things turned out differently. What _would_ life have been like if he had accepted the offer of being added into _Sugar Rush_ like the king had originally planned? What kind of relationship would he and the child have? As Turbo remembered, Vanellope used to call him 'Uncle'.

What if King Candy had managed to regenerate? How many hours of inhumane torture would he make Turbo suffer before having the mercy to kill him?

There were a lot of scenarios that could have turned out so differently if the racer hadn't made those life altering decisions. His head throbbed from the jumbled thought train, and he instead turned to the little girl, gripping her by the shoulder and turning her to him.

"Pixie...Vanellope, I want you to promise me something." He had never adapted such a serious tone to his voice before, but he meant every word as his gaze burned through her. "Promise me that no matter how painful it is to remember him, you won't try to forget him. Promise me. Forgetting the people you love will just help you slip into darkness, and it's a darkness that's hard to ever come out of."

He didn't expect the little tyke to understand. She was just a child, only nine after all. She'd never understand the deep meaning to these words. And yet, somehow she did as she smiled gently and firmly nodded.

"I promise."

Satisfied, Turbo stood up after giving the headstone a final look. "Alright. It's past the time we should _both_ be up, and I know Fix-it would have my head if he knew I kept you awake this late." He looked at the girl. "Come on."

Vanellope pushed herself to her feet and followed the retro racer down the hill. A few steps away from the passage to the gumdrop bushes she stopped, and Turbo turned around.

"Pixie, what are you..." He trailed off as the little girl abruptly turned away from him and bounded toward a bush of chocolate roses. The baffled racer watched as she tore two from the ground, as well as a candy stick, and returned to the headstone.

Perplexed, Turbo came up behind her, watching as she carved something in the ground with the stick. His eyes widened as he read what she wrote.

_In Memory Of Jet and Set, friend to Turbo and Turbo-tastic racers_

She picked up the two chocolate roses, tossing them gently at the base of both monuments. She looked up at Turbo with the kind of innocent and child-like smile he could no longer deny melted his heart. "Now you have closure too..."


	18. Sorry guys

I'm sorry guys. I'm sure I got everyone's hopes up when they saw this in their story alerts, but it's just an author's note, and an important one.

"It's Only Programmed" is taking a long, if not permanent hiatus. I'll try not to make it permanent, but it's possible it may be. I'm having a huge writer's block, and I don't want to crank an chapters out if they're all going to be shit, which they all would be if I somehow forced myself to post them. Quality over quantity after all.

And I'm going through a very difficult time in my life right now, and on and off the internet I have a lot of responsibilities to attend to.

As for the block, if you guys want to pitch me some ideas to end the fic you can be my guest. And I may still make my side story "Daddy Daycare", which is centered Turbo and all the racers, after he assumes his role as Vanellope's guardian and the children's guardian. So if anything you have that to look forward to, but for now I'm sorry. "It's Only Programmed" has been paused, but hopefully not cancelled.

I sincerely thank and love all of my fans and readers. This has been one of my most successful fics by far.


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